Cries of the Forest
by sora1shiro
Summary: The night of the Kyuubi attack, Naruto was never found by the bodies of his dead parents. Instead, he was raised by the forest. Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, but I do own the writing skills that produced this work of fiction, so I ask that you be respectful and not copy my work. In addition, this is SHOUNEN-AI. People don't read the damn A/Ns, so I guess I have to say it here.
1. chapter 1

In the depth of the forest, a great chase of life and death took place before the very eyes of a young boy. A doe, graceful even in her panic, frantically ran from a large brown wolf. Hopping over rotting logs and tree roots, she sped through the foliage like an arrow.

But it was all for naught. As with everything, she inevitably tired and tripped. Struggling to get up, jagged teeth tore into her exposed side. The wolf ripped her flesh from her body and blood gushed from the wound. It was fatal, and she knew it.

Quietly waiting behind a tree, the boy had finally caught up with them. He cringed at the feeble cries for help but stayed put.

He could feel her life force draining rapidly and only hoped that her suffering would be short-lived.

Hunger sated and belly full, the wolf finally walked away from the ravaged form of the deer. Only when it was out of sight did the boy emerge from his hiding place. He hesitated for only a second before cautiously stepping towards the fallen doe.

Amazingly, she was still alive, if just barely. Every shallow breath was a struggle, and pain filled her large brown eyes. The boy offered comfort in the form of a hand gently stroking her head. She flinched at the foreign touch, but he continued with his task anyway.

He longed to take her pain away in any way he could. By now her eyes had closed and her breaths rattled in her lungs. Taking pity, the boy pulled out a knife of bone and swiftly cut her throat.

The cut bled weakly, showing how much she'd lost earlier, and her chakra signature vanished.

Despite having just ended her life, the boy still tenderly stroked her head. Moving to his knees, he put his hands together to pray for the doe.

"Thank you... for offering your meat to the howler, your skin to me and your body to the forest. Rest well."

Having said his part, he took up his knife once more and carefully severed the pelt from the carcass, not minding the lukewarm blood coating his hands in the least.

He also took a bit of the leftover meat while he was at it. His diet mainly consisted of fish and plant life, so venison was a rare treat. He never ate in excess, and only killed when necessary.

The boy gingerly stood up, then set off towards his den. He walked in a zigzag pattern to throw off any pursuers and collected leaves and berries in a small pouch as he passed by.

Here in the forest, there was a system; always the unspoken rule governing the wildlife. "Only take as much as you give." Every creature, no matter how big or small, followed this rule in some way. Although "moderation" didn't seem to be in most humans' vocabulary, this lifestyle suited the boy perfectly.

He'd grown up this way after all.

He couldn't remember if he had ever lived with The People beyond the forest. Every once in a while he would go down to the forests' edge to observe The People, but never did he reveal himself. It wasn't that he was particularly afraid of them, only that they lived differently from him.

From his research of sorts, he started listening to the way they communicated with each other, carefully imitating the sounds later in his den and practicing with Father. He had learned of their burial ceremonies, took notes on the hand movements that made fire or water appear out of thin air, and watched how they used tools to aid them in various ways.

The first time he was playing with his hands like the people he'd seen, he produced a large ball of fire that flew into one of the trees, scorching the bark.

He didn't like it. It hurt the trees.

The boy didn't know if The People could hear the trees or not. If they did, why did they cut them? Why would they burn them alive or knock them over simply because they were "in the way?" No, he decided. The People could not hear the cries of The Forest.

The boy then looked up towards the canopy. The sun would be leaving soon. That was fine. He was almost to his den anyway. He checked his pouch to make sure he had enough berries for his last meal. It was a bit short, but it would tide him over for the night.

As the trees grew almost unnoticeably thinner, he knew he would be home soon.

Soon enough he came upon a large gnarled tree. In the nest of its roots was the entrance to his den.

He remembered when he'd come upon it when it was just a sapling. He had grown too old but still too weak to remain with the pack of wolves he'd been staying with and had no place for himself.

He was cold and tired from looking for a new den when he came upon a small sprig of a tree. He envied that a tree could easily make a home for itself in the warm, compact soil of the forest.

He remembered imagining the warmth of the soil, wishing he could be there too. His want was so great that he felt a tug at his core before the small sprout grew before his very eyes.

The trunk thickened, branches reached out for the sky and gnarled roots grew to make a cradle for him.

There he slept, safely tucked away for the moment, curled in the safety of the tree's almost affectionate limbs.

He didn't know when exactly he'd made a home of the tree, only that it was there now.

Since that day the tree has felt a certain fondness for the boy that almost certainly decided its survival. In such a dense forest and as a small shrub of a tree, it had grown uncertain of its chances against the competition. That's why it had no qualms about being the key to the boy's survival.

It had no fruit, so this was the most it could offer.

And the boy understood that. So he gladly took the silent offering, and slowly started bringing pelts and furs back to warm them. Eventually, he dug further underground to escape the wind and made a larger living space for himself beneath the tree's root system.

For 7 years he has lived here, and he doesn't plan to stay anywhere else.

/

S **o this was gonna be a fic where Naruto finds solace in the Forest of Death after the war, but then my history class went over the ages before the agricultural revolution where humans lived as hunters and foragers, and this was born. I'm kind of proud of this for some reason...**

 **Thinkin' it'll have some ShikaNaru or Narushika.**

 **And also, I know it's repetitive to call Naruto "The Boy," but there's a reason for that. He himself has no name, so he isn't "Naruto" yet. Make sense? No? You'll just have to roll with it.**

 **I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you'll tune-in in the future!**


	2. chapter 2

**hsm1999: I had given small indicators earlier in the story that Naruto was a natural sensor, so I figured he'd be able to subconsciously sense the chakra fluctuations. It was a bit subtle and wasn't said outright, so I'm sorry that got lost in the translation.**

 **Babina Groznica: It was a mistake that I didn't do much research before this, but thank you for pointing it out. I'd honestly love it if you could point out little things like that so I could improve.**

The boy woke when the sun was low. His stomach growled in hunger, so he wrapped a wolf skin around his waist and set off into the trees. The crisp morning air softly nipped at his tanned torso, but he was too preoccupied with picking berries to notice much.

He stopped beneath a large nut tree and started climbing. It was best to get as many heart-nuts as he could before they fell off the tree. They might not be ripe for the animals, but they were perfect for him. He had not thought to bring his pouch, so he settled for storing a few in the folds of his fur.

Before he leaped down from his perch, the boy struck one nut against another, startling a small squirrel from its home in a knoll.

Small cracks appeared in the shells and he carefully widened them with his nails. Eventually, he managed to pry them open and are the nut inside. His hunger was by no means satisfied, but the nuts and berries would tide him over until the sun was high.

He felt the familiar bright chakra signature of the king and headed towards him.

Keeping his eyes closed, he visualized the way with his mind and felt with his feet. He knew it by heart.

The king was his father of sorts. He had gifted the boy to the pack of wolves and cared for the forest. He had shown him The People so the boy could learn. His father was so kind he would never even set foot on the grass for fear of harming the delicate blades.

That was why the boy was heading towards the river. Feeling for the gentle slope of the ground caused by water runoff, the moisture in the ground that never quite leaves completely, the vibrations of water fiercely battling against the land.

He first heard a trickle, gradually loudening to a dull roar as he came closer. Suddenly he was clear of the forest and on the bank of the wide river.

Small animals dotted the stretch of land, bathing in the light of the sun and the warmth of the king's chakra.

There was no competition over territories or food supply. This was the king's domain, where all was in safe harmony.

On the water lay the king, as if he were settled in a meadow rather than turbulent water. He had shaggy blue hair and brilliant scales that reflected the sun in beautiful green patterns atop the water. His two ridged horns pointed behind him towards his long reptilian tail and a thin mustache trailed behind him in the wind.

He was a creature like no other.

The boy carefully stepped onto the glassy surface of the shallows, then gradually moved towards the king.

He could not walk on water as well as his father.

His father, who had been assessing him as he went, seemed to gaze amusedly at the boy. He slowly nodded towards his scaled back, and the boy gratefully took the offering. Walking on water was more taxing on the mind than the body, so he was understandably mentally exhausted.

He then proceeded to ungracefully flop on the king, hearing an annoyed snort in response. His skin tingled where it touched the scales, but he wasn't alarmed.

A soft nudge came from within his mind and he opened up to it with practiced ease. A powerful weight settled in his mind, careful not to overwhelm him.

 _'Hello again, child,'_ came the first thought.

 _'Father,'_ he acknowledged respectfully.

 _'Would you like to hear another story?'_ his father asked kindly. Excitement welled up inside him. It wasn't often when the king decided to share one of the many stories he had to tell.

 _'Please!'_ His father chuckled at his childish enthusiasm.

 _'Alright then. I will tell you a new story. The story of how I came to be.'_ And so he began weaving his tale.

 _'Long ago, there was a newborn fawn, only hours old and unknowing of fear. He had a mother to guide and care for him, and a father to protect him and the others. But while they were grazing, the fawn went off on his own and came upon a tree. This tree was said to bear the fruit of the gods, and granted mortals power beyond the imagination. But the fawn knew nothing of this new world.'_ He trailed off sadly, remembering his foolishness. He paused slightly before resuming his story once more.

 _'This foolish fawn ate from the bark and root of the tree. The power killed him. However, he was reborn centuries later as what The People call a Kirin. I am immortal and will live to see the end of time, but I never saw my birth mother for more than those few hours.'_

They sat in heavy silence, sadness radiating from the both of them. Finally, the king continued.

 _'I told you of this today as a warning. Ignorance will surely kill you. Power can sometimes be more of a curse than a blessing, but you must always look for the silver lining.'_

The boy was...shocked, to say the least. He hadn't thought much on _why_ the king looked so different compared to the other animals. Neither a reptile nor a deer, but forever stuck somewhere in the in-between. It seemed like an awful prospect to the boy, and he suddenly realized that that was what _he_ was as well. Neither a human nor animal, but lost in the in-between.

He grew angry at having something like that pointed out to him, making him insecure; but he calmed when he realized that his father was merely protecting him. Warning him that if things didn't change, it could mean the end.

After a long moment, he spoke up. _'So...You say I should meet with The People?'_

The king chuckled at his hesitance. _'If you are ready,'_ he said, deliberately ruffling the boy's feathers a bit. The boy's temper rose and the glint of determination sparked in his eyes.

 _'I'll show you! I'll go down to The People tomorrow, believe it!'_ The king gave a small huff of laughter at his exclamation.

 _'I'm sure you will,'_ came the fond reply.

 **Oh my gosh, I never imagined my story would get this much positive feedback! Not even kidding, I almost cried tears of joy. Thank you all so much for checking this out!**

 **I'm thinking about doing a half/extra chapter to explain Konoha's view a bit. But until then, let me explain Naruto's "father." What I was trying to describe was a Japanese Kirin/Qilin. They're said to be omens of good luck, the coming of a sage(hint hint), and things such as fertility and goodness. I figured if there are rabbit goddesses and talking ostriches running rampant, why not add a mythological creature to the mix? I don't think it's really been done before for this fandom...**

 **So to check out a picture of the king, here's the link to a work I found on DeviantArt(not mine,)**

sonpan dot deviant art dot com slash art/Qilin-329940127

 **(So sorry that I couldn't just copy n' paste the link. I tried.)**


	3. chapter 3

Shikamaru Nara was having a bad day. First, he was loudly woken up by his mother, (and rather violently if I might add,) then forced outside to monitor the deer for coming to breakfast late.

His sandaled feet were misted slightly by the grass, still damp from the morning dew, and he grumbled at how cold the air was this morning. The summer warmth had long left Fire Country, but he hadn't been bothered to grab a jacket before he left. Now he paid the price for his laziness.

While the Naras did have a herd of deer, they didn't keep them fenced. Domestication might have the perks of keeping the deer in one accessible place, but disease and defects far outweighed the pros of an enclosure. In the long run, it was smarter to let them roam free.

As Shikamaru followed the faint trail left by the herd, he collected various medicinal herbs and berries as he passed. He knew his mother would make him do it later and few couldn't be bothered to start from scratch at a later time.

He followed the trail at a leisurely pace, keeping an eye out for faint cloven hoof prints, a twig snapped here or there, or just trampled shrubs.

The chattering of monkeys could be heard from the treetops. He found it unusual that the forest was so animated at this time. Normally the animals were grouped father in than this. Not to mention the odd occurrence of some leaves or sprigs picked from bushes he knew for a fact deer _did not_ incorporate into their diet.

Burning curiosity settled within his mind, but he did not speed up from his sluggish walk. If he sped up, he would surely scare off the creatures and his personal mystery would remain unresolved.

When he was sure he was just a few paces behind the herd of deer, he was startled when he heard an animalistic scream. It was not a cry of fear or agony, but of warning.

The leaves of trees above him rustled as a band of macaque bounded from branch to branch. Strange. Had they thought him to be a hunter?

The deer merely turned their heads to stare at him when he broke through the tree line and entered their temporary grazing ground. Across the small glade sat a tanned figure, gently petting the resting fawns.

While Shikamaru knew Konoha was very large, it puzzled him that he had never seen the teen before.

The boy had his short blond hair swept back in a ponytail similar to his own, brightly colored feathers sticking out from his ears and a strand of dark orange beads secured on a pale braid around his neck. Red paint adorned the edges of his eyelids and marked his cheeks, looking reminiscent to whiskers.

One would expect him to be cold in nothing but some fur but all he did was keep a watchful eye on the curious Nara.

If the chore wasn't troublesome enough already, this definitely made it more so.

The adult deer, judging him to be of no threat went back to their grazing. The teen, however, remained staring at him with a calculating gaze, searching his body language for any indication of violence.

Shikamaru was slightly unnerved by the weight of the bright blue eyes but forced himself to calm. It would do him no good to scare them all off.

He quietly edged towards the other boy and sat next to the fawn farthest from the group. He did not look at the strange boy, but instead, pet the back of the small speckled deer lying at his side. Shikamaru then looked to the sky, hoping to cloud gaze for a bit. He was mildly disappointed to find that the sky was still a full gray of an early autumn morning.

He heard the boy shift a bit, but didn't bother looking to see what he was doing. Instead, he started counting the deer. This group was all female with the exception of the few male fawns who obviously had yet to reach their maturity.

Since the last time he was here, he counted five does missing and four new younglings. He hoped it wasn't the mothers who had died.

He was startled from his musings when a hand reached out to pull at the thick ring of silver in his ear. He grunted in slight pain and glared at the culprit. _Ow_. That hurt, dammit!

Curious sapphires eyed the shiny piece of metal in fascination of its hardness. Had he never seen metal before?

From his clothes, (or lack thereof,) it was easy to gather that the blond teen was a wild child in a more literal sense. How Konoha didn't seem to know of him was a mystery, but there was no other explanation for them to leave him here in the forest.

Slowing his movements considerably, Shikamaru reached up to unclasp his earring, holding it out for the boy to take. The boy's eyes followed his every move, waiting to see if this was some sort of trickery. After a moment though, he snatched the metal piece from the Nara's outstretched hand.

Turning it over in his calloused fingers, the boy carefully traced the smooth surface. He marveled at the small clasp and the softly rounded edges of the ring.

As he did this, Shikamaru observed him out of the corner of his eye. The boy's curiosity of such a novelty object was incredibly gratifying to see. He then began his lazy interrogation.

"Do you speak Japanese?" The boy looked up at him, innocent confusion in his eyes. He looked back at the earring before mumbling a response.

"I speak People. Speak wolf, speak monkey, speak forest." Now it was Shikamaru's turn to be confused. Forest? Can he somehow communicate with all of the animals in the Konoha Forest? But the forest covered most of The Land of Fire!

"Do you...have a name?" Long blond hair shifted as the boy tilted his head to the side, trying to remember exactly how he had seen The People use that word. When they first met someone, they exchanged "names" and took each others' hand. He didn't get why they did that. Was it a challenge? Was this People trying to take his territory?! He growled and shifted away uneasily.

He had worked hard to make his den how it was now. There was no way he could give it up so easily!

Shikamaru, on the other hand, did not follow this train of thought. Sure, he had known the boy's language skills to be somewhat rudimentary, but he was so used to his culture's ways that he thought nothing of it. So when the strange boy crouched low and started _growling_ at him, to say he was baffled was an understatement. How exactly had he managed to offend him?!

Thinking quickly, Shikamaru used his clan's trademark shadow imitation jutsu to still the boy's movements. He raised his hands in surrender, causing the boy to copy his movements.

Snarling, the boy struggled against the invisible bonds forcing his limbs against him. Seeing as this was futile, he abandoned his plan. If brute force didn't work, he'd have to come up with a strategy. Sharp canines still bared in challenge, he willed the People to come towards him.

Roots and vines sprung from the ground, wrapping tightly around Shikamaru's body and forcing him up into the air. Once he was close enough, the boy leaned in close and snapped his teeth near his neck, forcing the "challenger" into submission.

Poor Shikamaru was so startled his calm façade cracked. While he'd had plenty of dangerous encounters with enemy nin during missions and had his first kill long ago, that could never prepare him for a strange boy up close and personal, threatening to rip into one of the vital points of his body. To be blunt, Shikamaru was scared stiff.

Satisfied now that he could move his limbs and had won the challenge, the boy stepped back and resumed sitting once more. The fawns who's been startled by the sudden bout of violence were soon calmed by gentle pets.

Shikamaru, who was still entangled in flora, shakily began to cut himself down from his perch using a kunai he had managed to grasp after a considerable amount of effort.

No, he thought sourly. This was definitely _not_ his morning.

When he had finally freed himself, he sat down again. If he'd happened to be a little farther away than when he'd started, who would know?

Too afraid to resume his interrogation, Shikamaru instead resolved to observe him some more.

And so the young Nara watched the nameless boy. Watched in slightly subdued awe as the boy's ears slightly twitched towards noises unknown to the Nara. Noises that he couldn't hear even with chakra enhanced senses. It was then that he had to wonder how he _had_ managed to find him, especially after being completely off the radar for the entirety of his life.

By now the sun had risen high above the treetops and wispy clouds skittered across the sky.

Only when his stomach grumbled did he get up from his lazy cloud gazing to leave. The herd was gettng ready to leave for a new grazing ground and the boy was laying in the sunlight, letting the warmth softly dust his painted cheeks.

Shikamaru quietly got up, sparing the boy one last look before heading back towards home. He was still unsure if he would come back or ever see the boy again, but he was still curious. And a curious Nara was a troublesome Nara.

My longest chapter! How was their first meeting? Sure it wasn't instant love, but it'll get there. Eventually. I also had a lot of trouble with Shikamaru. I feel like you'll be silently nodding your head at this, relieved that you don't have to burst my bubble.

But yeah. I don't think I played on the "lazy" part of his character enough, and so he ended up being OOC af.

And I know that someone commented a request for no yaoi. I'll tell right now that this _is_ yaoi, but more shounen ai than anything. Nothing hot and heavy. But you've been outvoted sir/ma'am, and so it shall stay a boys' love story. As always, point out all the plotholes if you can _in a respectful manner,_ and try to stick with me here.

P.S. Your comments give me life.


	4. chapter 4

Shikamaru was tired. More than usual, as impossible as that sounds. Every time he looked to the tree-line, he would remember that strange boy. Given that his clan's compound situated directly by the forest's edge, that meant he thought of the boy near constantly.

It had gotten to the point where even Ino noticed something was off, and she had jokingly teased him about thinking of his "girlfriend," Temari.

Now _that_ had stopped him short. When had Temari become his girlfriend? Though now that he thought about it, he probably gave people that impression since she tended to seek him out and cling to him. Women were troublesome to deal with, so he merely tolerated the attention and moved on.

Yes, he could understand how he had given others the wrong idea, but there was no way he would sign over his life for a woman, even for the sake is his clan.

Since he was but a young boy, his father had drilled into him that he would marry and have children, if not for himself then for the clan. Thus was born his dream to marry an average looking girl and settle down with maybe two kids. He had thought the option given to him was the only option. _But there was always another option._

Civilian or not, women were violent and controlling. He then thought of quiet, timid Hinata. Well, he amended, maybe not _all_ women. But by his experiences with Ino, Tsunade, Sakura, and his mother, he had absolutely no plans to marry.

He supposed he should probably tell his father, but then he would have to deal with the clan elders as well. That would just complicate matters and overall be extremely troublesome, so he decided against it.

But that brought him to another dilemma. Who would he find suitable for a relationship? Kiba? No, he was too loud and crass, not to mention his crush on Hinata. Shino? Quieter than him. Choji? No. They'd been together since birth. There was no way he could establish a romantic relationship with him.

All the other people he knew were weird, and he thought of as teachers. Dating was just a hassle. So who did that leave for him? No one.

Forget it, he thought. There was no way he could establish anything at this rate, so it was best to leave such matters alone. Instead, he would think of the mystery of... _that boy._

Now he was getting irritated. Why couldn't he thinks if anything else?! Like perhaps learning a new clan technique or something new elemental jutsu?!

Ah, he was getting nowhere. So much for being the outstanding Nara genius, he thought sarcastically. Lately, he didn't feel like the genius people said him to be. Sure, above average in intelligence, but he was no genius.

He sighed and just started walking. He didn't have any particular destination, but he didn't care too much. All this thinking had made him tired, and he longed to watch the clouds blow by. Without realizing it, his feet had taken him back to the forest's edge. Resignation overpowered momentary irritation, and he threw all caution to the wind. Why overthink something so simple when he could cut corners and get more information from the source?

He hadn't been in the forest since his last visit, and he had no map to go by. This was, after all, technically beyond the village boundaries. Other than keeping tabs on the herd and tree hopping to their next mission, no one traversed this part.

While it did hinder his progress, he remained unperturbed that he was going into the unknown blind. With a determination most decidedly unlike him, he decided that he would find the boy again.

* * *

The boy's morning so far was relatively normal. He got up, dressed, ate, then bathed. He did not see Father today, for he wasn't at the river. He wondered if maybe Father had gone because the People was here again. He knew because the trees told him. The forest was all connected, so whispers flew fast.

He hoped the People wasn't here for his moonpiece, as he'd taken to calling it. After all, it was shiny, silver, and brought a chill to his skin. What better name than 'moonpiece?' He had strung the small moonpiece on is braid and beads, liking the glimmer it gave off in the light.

He thought of going to meet the People directly, but then his mischievous streak flared, and he got a wicked idea. The People had followed the trail well enough that he had found both him and the herd, so he _had_ to have been a skilled tracker.

The boy ran back to his den for his pouch to collect all that he needed. He asked a few trees for some leaves instead of outright picking them. He did not want to hurt the trees. He felt the bit of chakra in a few older leaves recede into the branch and caught the gently fluttering leaves. They were newly fallen so they could live off of the chakra in the air, but would still brown in a few days.

He took a stick and his dagger of bone and headed off. His eyes were closed as he walked, constantly listening to the whispers of the trees to get an idea of where the People was.

After he got a rough idea of where his prey was heading, he started on making a faint trail. A scuff here, a broken branch there. He'd occasionally drop one of the leaves or pick something from one bush, only to deposit beneath another bush. Sometimes simple is best.

He did not set any traps. That was not the purpose of this. Instead, he'd walk a meandering path, backtracking a few times just for the fun of it. He'd never deliberately _tried_ to lead someone to him. Things were usually attracted to him naturally, so he wasn't quite sure if the People would be smart enough to pick up on the trail.

It was fine if they weren't. He'd teach them the ways of the forest. But then the boy was struck by a thought. Did he want the People to stay? To visit him more times? He thought back to the quiet atmosphere that had taken hold the last time they had been together. The gentle way his calloused hands caressed the back of the fawn and how even after he had him bound with no restraints, the People had not hurt him.

Perhaps... the People _might_ be slightly trustworthy. We'll see.

Speaking of the People, the boy had lost track of him during his musings. He would have to rectify that. So he closed his eyes once more and eagerly felt for that life source slightly larger than the regular residents of the forest, but still smaller than his own or the king's.

He was surprised to see that the People was only a few dozen meters behind him and had seen through a majority of his schemes.

Remaining undeterred, the boy took to the trees to make the game more of a challenge. If their sense of sight was up to par, how was their hearing?

It wasn't too much longer before the People emerged at the dead end of the trail. He stopped and searched his surrounding for the boy in puzzlement. The boy almost blew his cover by laughing out loud at the cute expression of confusion stuck on his face. Regardless, the boy thought it was high time to take the game to the next level.

Crouching on all fours, he jumped to a neighboring tree. The branch shook upon his landing, making the leaves to rattle against each other. The People looked up at the sudden noise, and the boy held his breath. He was sure that he only looked like a large monkey from this height, but that didn't stop his body from tensing up.

When the leaves had settled, he drew himself up and released a small bark to enforce the impression of him being only a monkey. It was great fun for him, seeing as how the boy was positive that the People below him had no knowledge of the monkey language.

It appeared that he hadn't gotten the People's attention, so he decided it was time for a change of position as well.

Seeing a broken length of wood at the top of another tree, he focused on seeing things as he would from that perspective and his want to be in the cradle of branches of that tree. A brief flare of chakra signified his successful exchange.

Taking extra precautions to ensure he remained unseen, the boy then started his calling again. But this time he imitated the chirps of a small bird. They would be especially talkative in the morning, always yelling at the rest of the world to _"get your asses in gear; it's a new day,"_ (their chirps, not his.)

Deceptively lazy eyes swung to face him once again. Suspicion was now present, but the People seemed content to stay where he was.

The boy grew excited now. He knew that the next call would be the last, but he didn't mind in the least. He'd had his fun.

He waited for a few more seconds, then let out a few soft hoots. He thought the animal that made these sounds were similar to the People on the ground. Of course, they weren't all that familiar with each other, so he couldn't be too sure, but it seemed like a good fit for him.

Laughter danced in the dark grey eyes now looking directly at him, and he nearly fell out of the tree when he couldn't contain his own. Great howls of mirth escaped his lips, and small tears appeared at the corners of his eyes. Eventually, though, he calmed down enough to swing down to the ground to join the People.

All was quiet when he softly landed on the ground, and they silently stared at each other.

It was then the People coughed awkwardly and averted his eyes. That's good, the boy thought. The other was still reminded of his dominance and wouldn't try anything like last time.

"So... I know nothing about you," the People said, now cautiously looking into the boy's eyes.

The boy didn't quite understand what the stranger would need to know "about" him, but he figured it held a similar meaning to how wolves scented each other. So he leaned in close to the People and inhaled.

The People before him stiffened but remained still. Did he think the boy was reestablishing himself? No matter. The boy now knew both his chakra signature and his scent marker, and _that_ was what mattered to him.

Shikamaru, on the other hand, was frozen stiff. The last time the strange boy had been in such close proximity had been disastrous, and he didn't want a repeat of that incident.

But when he actually started _smelling_ him, he well and truly freaked out. Although he didn't show any hints of his distress on the outside of his person, he was having an internal meltdown.

First, he was plagued by relentless thoughts of the boy-who was now _smelling_ him,-then questioned his sexuality, therefore having an identity crisis, and now he was engaging in something incredibly inappropriate (to him at least,) with a boy who he'd just met- _who was **still**_ _smelling_ _him!_

He was rapidly approaching his limit for mental and emotional exhaustion, and his brain was desperately trying to keep from shutting down from the absurdity of the situation he had found himself in.

When the boy finally stepped away from poor Shikamaru, he was mildly alarmed when a bank stare met his gaze.

He panicked. Had he somehow done something to hurt him?!

Now frantic, the boy started dragging the People back in the direction of his den. After all, how could he tend to whatever injury the other had out in the open like this?

He can't. And that was why he was bringing the People to his den.

As he picked up speed, here forewent courtesy and slung the People across his shoulders. This seemed to snap the other out of his catatonic state, and Shikamaru started flailing around.

The boy paid this no mind and headed towards a tree. At this distance, it would be tiring, especially with another person, but that didn't matter to him.

He skid to a stop at the base of a large tree and knelt down to lay on its roots, still maintaining a firm grip on his precious cargo. It was hard to concentrate, but he focused on the warmth of the furs strewn about his den. The smell of his personal scent marker and the ever-present sounds of the forest.

The roots bent to his will, surrounding him in a crude imitation of a cocoon, and transported him to his desired location. He was home.

At this point, Shikamaru was basically fearing for his life and had managed to break the strong hold that had held him captive.

His analytical mind listed possible outcomes and escape routes as his mind worked at lightning speed. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his body tensed for a fight. How on Earth had things gone sour between them so quickly?!

Seeing his intention to escape, the boy growled shortly in warning before pouncing.

While he had no intention of harming him, the boy would not allow the People to leave while injured!

So he charged.

While Shikamaru was quickly trying to form hand signs, the boy went for a simpler approach and settled for tracking him. He didn't bother with fancy moves, having learned to fight only with the savagery of a wild animal, and immediately went to take out the limbs.

Enveloping him in a sort of overly aggressive bear hug, the boy securely wrapped himself around the other's arms and waist.

Having had the wind knocked out of him, Shikamaru fell to the ground with little resistance. He was unable to break his fall, but thankfully he was safely cushioned by the layers of furs set in the small space.

He contemplated the option of casting a simple genjutsu that didn't require hand seals, but all thoughts of that were dashed from his mind when a set of teeth firmly locked around his jugular.

Logically, he knew that the chances of the boy going through with his unsaid threat were slim, but the implications were clear.

His body tensed, then relaxed to show his submission. He had lost this fight, and there was no way he would be getting his way today.

The boy purred low in his throat, then softly licked along the throat he had gently abused twice in just as many days. A show of apology.

Shikamaru shivered at the strange feeling but remained as he was.

Now appeased, the boy commenced with his minor "medical" check. Really though, the boy merely ran his hands along his patient's body and watched his face for any signs of pain.

At times it was awkward and ticklish, but not too uncomfortable for Shikamaru. He still didn't quite understand how he'd gotten in this situation, but he appreciated the concern nonetheless.

He wondered how he would communicate with the boy. He had noticed that his vocabulary was fairly limited, he couldn't grasp the concepts of grammar and thought in quite simple terms. All this made for a field of landmines that set off at the slightest misunderstanding. It was proving to be problematic, and in all honesty, troublesome.

But that didn't deter him in the least.

For once he anticipated the challenge this would prove to be. Anticipated the small sense of pride and accomplishment he was sure to feel when his curiosity was sated.

But to progress at all, they'd have to start building up the boy's language skills. And really, it was only common sense to start with exchanging names and introductions.

Meanwhile, while Shikamaru had been mulling over the many hurdles set up for him in the near future, the boy had completed his physical check and had somehow gotten ahold of one of Shikamaru's senbon. He admired it's stiff, unyielding form and the finely honed sharpness of the tips.

Only when he was about to stab himself in the hand did Shikamaru break out of thought. His eyes widened when a slightly panicked Shikamaru snatched it out of his grasp.

"What were you doing?!" Honestly, Shikamaru felt like he'd just had a miniature heart attack!

The boy merely tilted his head cutely, uncomprehending of the danger of such a harmless looking object. He grinned sheepishly, timidly pointing to the small length of metal.

"Moon piece?"

Moonpiece? What did that mean? Shikamaru didn't think he'd ever heard of such a term before, which meant it either want commonly used or just didn't exist as part of the village's vocabulary. The latter was very possible.

"What's a 'moonpiece'?" he asked, half expecting to be tossed around again for no apparent reason at all.

Surprisingly, that did not happen. Instead, the boy smiled a bit guiltily and pointed to his necklace. A small glint caught his attention, and he noticed his earring strung upon the boy's necklace. Truthfully, he didn't mind all that much that it was gone, only regretted the scolding he had received from his mother for losing it.

It was settled nicely among the dark orange beads on the strand. Strangely though, the string shone a soft gold instead of the grey or brown normal to a thread. Was that...hair?

He shrugged off his momentary confusion at this observation and instead focused on making it clear that he didn't want his 'moonpiece' back.

"Look, it's fine. You can keep it." Although such words were said in casual laziness, he felt a glow of warmth at the boy's responding smile. He cleared his throat, then steeled himself for what was to come.

"You didn't exactly answer me last time, but I want to know. What's your name?" The expected growl answered back, so he hurried to clarify whatever misgivings he'd somehow given the boy. "I'm not after your...den... or anything. I'm Shikamaru Nara. Would you happen to have a name?" Saying he wasn't a competitor for the den was a good move, and he silently thanked his quick thinking for saving him from that blow-up.

"...Name? Like king?"

"No. Name, like Shinji or Shikamaru."

"No name. Me," he said in a matter-of-fact tone."

"Then would it be alright if I called you something until you decide on a different name?" A slightly uncertain nod was all he got, so Shikamaru started thinking. Nikko? No. Usuge? No. The sounds somehow didn't suit his personality. What about Aoime? 'Blue eyes.' It was simple, but could easily be passed off as a foreign name from Kiri or Kumo, and that was important.

He was preparing for the inevitable in a way. If Shikamaru had found him, then others were sure to follow. After all, the saying that secrets never stayed that way for long had rung true for so long.

"How do you like 'Aoime'? We could always shorten it to 'Mei' if it's too difficult to say." The boy tilted his head and seemed to contemplate this. Shikamaru had noticed this to be a habit or a tick of sorts. Finally, the newly dubbed Aoime hummed in approval while nodding.

He quite liked the sound of that!

* * *

 **First off, I am so sorry I was late. I was trying to finish last night, but then I somehow managed to triple my word count? So yeah. Sorry 'bout that.**

 **Secondly, I'm sorry for switching between perspectives so much. I can try to stop that in the future, but I have little control over the way I write... The ending was also quite abrupt and the overall flow seemed a bit stilted, so I apologize for that as well.**

 **Lastly, I've gotten a lot of questions about their ages, so I thought I'd clarify. I _think_ that they're around 13 or 14. I don't really have any of this planned out as I write, so not even I know exactly how old they are. But I call Naruto a boy both because he has no name to be addressed by, and because he's still relatively innocent. He's had no interaction of any nature with others, and the only creature that speaks the human language is the king, an ancient being where Naruto is still a baby to him.**

 **P.S. Google translate and everything else says that blue eyes=aoimoku, but it's somehow pronounced** aoime **? I'm very confused.**

 **Comment any questions or thing you want me to know. Thanks for sticking with me this far, and I hope to see you next week!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'M ALIVE!**

 **I felt that this was a little too long, and kind of just... dragged on? I'll probably make the next chapter a little shorter for the sake of quickness and my sanity.**

After that second time, Shikamaru came to visit much more often, varying from just weekends to every day! All in all, he had very quickly and effectively inserted himself into Aoime's everyday lifestyle.

His frequent disappearances were causing quite a stir among his peers, and he sometimes had to make a slight effort to shake off any curious pursuers (aka; Ino,) in the village before entering his new sanctuary.

He felt a slight possessiveness over his blond mystery and also felt that Aoime wasn't ready for more human contact yet. Although it bugged him slightly, he knew that it was only a matter of time before Aoime wanted to expand his small world. For some unknown reason, that put a bit of a damper on Shikamaru's mood. Subconsciously he knew why, but his rational self remained in denial for the time being.

In the meantime though, he was on a self-appointed mission. During one of his meetings with the Godaime Hokage, he remembered the strange techniques used by Aoime. Strange techniques unique only to the Shodaime, a member of the famed, though nearly extinct Senju clan.

That began a string of new questions, and quite frankly, Shikamaru was feeling he was in a little over his head. He felt the strong urge to discuss the boy with another over a shogi board if only to be enlightened from the perspective of a bystander to the situation.

He thought of telling his father, but like with his troublesome newfound sexuality, he'd be forced to inform the clan elders of the developments. Ino would blab, but maybe Choji would be an option this time around.

While his childhood friend was friendly with most anybody, he wouldn't thoughtlessly reveal secrets.

Having made his decision, he headed towards the Akimichi's family restaurant, knowing that was the likeliest place his friend would be.

Sure enough, there was the clan heir himself, in all his big-boned glory. Instead of serving and helping out like he _should_ , he was instead trying to sneak a few servings for himself. Unfortunately, his mother knew of his plans and was ready to whack him upside the head just as soon as he touched a thing.

Shikamaru casually intervened by calling the boy out, stopping his hand just in time from touching the customers' food.

Having been saved from a sure beating, he threw a grateful smile in Shikamaru's direction. He didn't usually give into his weakness to food so easily, but sometimes his self-control broke when surrounded by delicious treats.

And who could blame him, really? The Akimichis were famous for their special recipes, and there was a reason why every member of the clan was larger than the average individual. But God have mercy on the poor soul who called an Akimichi fat because they certainly would not.

Chouji came over sporting a large grin that squinted his eyes and chubbed his cheeks, then called out a greeting while giving a half-hearted wave. It wasn't all that usual for his Nara friend to call him out like this.

"Hey, Shikamaru. What'cha need?"

"Nothing. I just came over so my uncle could sneak into your guys' cheese and wine cellar," Shikamaru deadpanned. Chouji's face grew horrified and was on the verge of going off to break the Konaha's fastest sprint record before Shikamaru snorted with laughter.

"Relax, my uncle's still recovering from the last time he tried that stunt." Chouji visibly relaxed at that bit of information, his cheeked heavily dusted pink with embarrassment. "No, I just need an ear to listen to my troubles."

Now _that_ piqued Chouji's curiosity. He might be Shikamaru's best friend, but it wasn't that often when he'd have the privilege of being privy to the Nara's thoughts. Oftentimes he could hardly keep up with the crazy though ingenious strategies the other came up with, which was why he was content being the heavy-hitter of the team.

"Well, we might want to go somewhere slightly more private for that, but I'm game." So the pair settled at an even pace, one looking so bored he might just kill himself for entertainment, and the other positively bursting at the seams with curiosity.

After a good deal of meandering in seemingly no particular direction, they stopped beneath the large cherry blossom tree at the back of the academy of their childhood. While Chouji slowly sat down, Shikamaru settled for the simpler approach of just collapsing onto the grassy ground. His dear friend merely rolled his eyes, years of exposure to similar displays having desensitized him of the other's severe case of laziness.

Silence settled between them, and Chouji shifted uncomfortably. When it was clear the other wasn't going to speak anytime soon, the young Akimichi spoke up.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Shikamaru gave no outward indications that he'd heard the question as he remained sprawled out next to him.

"So... I met this boy. I've never seen him before, and he seems to inhabit Konoha's forest. I honestly have no idea how no one has found him before I literally stumbled upon him by _accident_." There was more frustration in Shikamaru's flat and slightly sarcastic tone than he could ever remember hearing from him.

"He's a puzzle," he continued. "He can hardly speak English, thinks in animalistic terms, and is so utterly isolated from civilization that it astounds me every time I meet him. But I've learned so much from him already, and I don't know what to do about him."

"Why not just go to the Hokage about him then?" Chouji asked. It was an honest question, really. Any other loyal ninja of Konoha would've immediately reported to the Fire Shadow, but Shikamaru had almost immediately shot that down.

"I thought of that, but here's the problem: he has mokuton."

"Ah, that-" he choked in surprise. _"Mokuton?!"_

Shikamaru yawned, then nodded his head sagely, eyes unfocused as he looked to the puffy near-white clouds. "Yep. That's when I knew he would be more troublesome than any woman I've met.

"But more than that, Ino's sniffing at my tail." Chouji was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that there was a wielder of the mokuton blood limit. How in the seven nations had Shimaru done all this almost without anyone noticing?! And he was _still_ visiting the stranger who he'd deemed as "troublesome" right off the bat?! Chouji was getting slightly concerned now.

"I know that I won't be able to keep him a secret forever, but I don't think he's all too keen for more company as of this moment. And you know how the village works. Tsunade's only a figurehead while the council runs things, and they'd place him under the CRA as soon as possible since Tsunade isn't young enough to safely restore the Senju."

He was babbling now, Shikamaru knew. But he couldn't stop the words from flowing in an attempt to convey the full severity of the situation from his perspective. Explain his reasoning so maybe his friend could offer any help, even if it only took the form of moral support.

Chouji held up a hand to stop the influx of information. "I think... I might understand. Maybe not as thoroughly as you'd like, but work with me here."

Shikamaru's tension melted at that admission and his body reverted back to its naturally relaxed state.

"So if this guy you met is as 'troublesome' as you say, why do you keep visiting him? Being on the brink of war, you know you could be accused of treasonous behavior if this got out."

"He's such a mystery that he constantly fuels my curiosity. It's like when I received my first 72 step puzzle box; the excitement, the thrill of the chase. I don't think I've been this motivated in my life!" In the depths of his steel grey eyes, an almost manic gleam appears, slightly unnerving to say the least.

"I'm happy you're finally feeling challenged, but how would you rather go about this? You came to me, so I don't think you want to do this alone, but what about the others? With you keeping contact, he's not going to stay hidden for long." Of course, Shikamaru had mulled over this problem several times before, but it was somehow different when someone else confirmed his suspicions.

He let out a heavy sigh, already feeling slight fatigue at using so much brain power at one time. Maybe he could convince Chouji to give up a chip or two?

"I'd already thought of that; and with Ino catching on, that point's come sooner than I'd hoped. I think we're going to have to slowly expose Aoime to the village if we're going to keep him from freaking out when comes the big reveal. He won't take kindly to leaf ninja taking over his den and territory," he said, speaking from experience. He really wouldn't like to experience a repeat of that occasion.

"His name's Aoime? That's strange for having been born in Fire Country."

"That's the point. His hair is a darker and brighter blond than the Yamanaka, his eyes too dark to pass as one of them as well. He clearly looks like a foreigner, so I thought that a foreign name would help him blend in with whatever backstory we come up with." His eyes closed when a particularly chilly draft passed them by, adding to his aloof appearance.

"That... makes sense. Man, I'll never get used to your level of thinking; always at least five steps ahead."

"That's fine. Keeps my niche open so I don't have to do any more work than the bare minimum."

Chouji let loose a hearty laugh, then pulled an unopened bag of chips from... _somewhere._ Ripping it open, he took a handful before offering it to the Nara.

"Want some?" Despite having asked the question, the mirth in his eyes said that he knew the answer perfectly well.

"Hm. Don't mind if I do." With the previous tension resolved, they laid there, watching the clouds in companionable silence.

 **-(TIME SKIP BECAUSE I SHOULDN'T LEAVE IT AS JUST A FILLER AFTER SO LONG)-**

Shikamaru found himself walking through the forest once more. There was never a trail to follow, no familiarity in the trees he walked past. With every venture into the trees, he had to rely on his gradually advancing tracking skills to follow the subtle path given to him.

He found that with each visit, the "trail" grew sparser and sparser, a new challenge each time. It excited him.

Winding through the foliage, he meandered along, new sights and smells bombarding him. He wondered what would come up in their "lessons" today.

When Shikamaru taught Aoime things about his culture, things like writing and reading, trying to explain the theory of more complicated subjects, he didn't really ever go in with a lesson plan per se. It still fascinated him when he managed to get a new reaction out of the boy.

And in return, Aoime would teach him things of the forest. He had once tried to teach the Nara the language of the deer, but that hadn't ended in anything productive. Most times Shikamaru learned from observation, little things he picked up that the blond knew and didn't consciously think about, much like him in a way.

Shikamaru learned that animals were, in a way, far smarter than humans. They could learn just as humans could, could work around their anatomical shortcomings, and their deep instinct allowed them more strategy than most people could scrounge up in a lifetime.

Their entire life was a constant duel to the death, each move a dance of shogi pieces. Even the _plants_ had to fend off others from invading their territory.

He also learned that the entire forest was _alive._ Not in the sense that every creature lived off a small degree of nature chakra, but in that the forest was a more complicated environment than any human civilization.

The animals all knew where they belonged, kept each other in balance and created a beautiful ecosystem together. That's more than could be said for humans.

Shikamaru knew he was smart. Having been lauded as a genius all his life had kept him assured of his intelligence. But in this new environment, he felt clumsy and stupid for the first time since he could remember.

Aoime was a picture of familiar grace, bounding through the trees, predatory in his demeanor, a host of contradictions.

It was beautiful.

A small shuffle sounded from his right, making him tense. For fight or flight, he didn't know. But he would be ready.

Turns out neither were needed, as it was just the blond resident of the forest greeting his favorite People.

"Shika! Come!" That was the only warning he got before a hard tug pulled him through the forest. His shinobi training failed him, and his feet clumsily tripped over obstacles he didn't have the presence of mind to avoid.

 _Jesus, he's fast._

The blond was going faster than he would ever go without enhancing his muscles with chakra, blurring through the trees so quickly the animals nearby didn't have enough time to react. His balance kept being offset by the dips and twigs in the ground, but thankfully Aoime's tight grip kept him from falling forward at such high speeds.

Various shades of greens melded together, and Shikamaru grew nauseous. Finally, when his arm ached and he was sure he would hurl any moment, the pair came to an abrupt halt.

The world seemed to tilt around him, swaying from side to side. Or was that just him? His head throbbed; he groaned and fell to a heap on the ground, covering his eyes to regain his equilibrium.

Long, painful moments passed before he was sure that if he stood, his lunch would stay in his stomach where it belonged. When the dizziness passed, his other sensory senses kicked in.

Soft, moist, squishy soil dampened his pants, cooling his legs where he'd fallen into a kneeling position. Soft splashes were almost consumed by the dull roar of larger rapids, water tumbling over itself in its rush downstream. The clean scent of fresh water and mud led him to the obvious conclusion of them being at a river.

But why and how?! His mind ran through all the maps of Konoha he'd seen, and all told him that the nearest river was at least ten miles from the village! He didn't think it was possible to run that far in the span of maybe three minutes. Well, unless you gave either Lee or Maito Gai a challenge.

But even then, they both had formal training and harsh conditioning. Conclusion: it should be impossible for Aoime to manage such a feat. _But he did. And he's no mere civilian either. He has access to his chakra and can perform mokuton techniques without a single hand sign._

Shikamaru decided to think some more on that later, because he was sure there was something important he was supposed to be paying attention to, judging by the slightly impatient grunts he heard coming from his companion. Sigh. _Fine. . ._

Looking up, he was greeted with the sunlight glinting harshly off the spraying water and large green scales the color of the finest jade from the Land of Stone. _Wait; scales?_ He did a double take and nearly fell to the ground in shock! . . . Again.

There, standing nobly amongst the rainbow spray was a fabled kirin. Being a cross of a deer and a dragon, it was strangely elegant, not at all gangly nor monstrous. Its scales were only slightly lighter than the hair at the base of its hooves, blending seamlessly into the dark blue fur that shone a brilliant sapphire. Ridged horns, light brown in color, rose from its brows to point to the sky.

In a word, magnificent.

Wise and intelligent eyes stared into his own and he felt the sudden urge to show his respect in some way.

"This is Father," the boy he'd nearly forgotten proudly proclaimed.

". . . What do you mean by _'father'_?" he asked.

Aoime stilled, features slackening then gained a face of persistence. Tapping his head, he nodded once jerkily. It was then that Shikamaru noticed a feather-light pressure settled upon his mind, one small touch that foretold unimaginable power hidden beyond his senses.

Cautiously, he allowed the presence to take root in his mind. He was relieved when the presence remained relatively passive and didn't force him to take the backseat in his own mind like the Yamanaka he- _\- thankfully-_ \- wasn't overly familiar with.

 _'So we meet, young one.'_ Well shit, if that wasn't the most startling thing ever, he didn't know what was.

 _'Were you expecting me?'_ Was he really talking to a mythical deer hybrid right now? This was his life now, Shikamaru realized with more than a little resignation.

 _'Oh, for decades now. Our little prince has taken quite the liking towards you,'_ came the amused reply.

 _'I guess so. So long as I don't offend him, he's a ball of sunshine.'_ He deliberately ignored the mention of "decades," instead filing that little tidbit away to examine later.

'Yes, he is quite excitable. He never completely understood the mannerisms common to your people, so I can imagine the misunderstandings.'

Shikamaru snorted, recalling the introductions incident. That had been a mess he never wanted to repeat. 'There are many. However, if we can maybe slowly acclimate him to the human society, he would gain more understanding...' He trailed off on his thought, unsure of how to continue.

 _'We?'_

 _'Ah. I meant to ask if perhaps I could introduce him to my friends one at a time, try to get him used to human contact that isn't limited to just me. Would that be an option?'_ The king looked over to see Aoime animatedly chasing some birds, playing a game of tag farther down up the riverbank. He seemed to be thinking it over, but what would he know about reading the expressions of a deer. After an awkward moment, just when Shikamaru was about to retract his words, the king spoke again.

 _'That would be agreeable. His fate is with you; he cannot stay sheltered in the forest any longer. The seed has been nurtured to a strong sapling, and it is time that he spread his branches and reach for the light.'_

 _'Thank you for your approval. I know that he values your opinion very highly."_

 _'But of course. My time has nearly run out, and he still has much to learn of the world.'_ Well, that was foreboding. He didn't like the sound of that at all.

 _'In that case, I think I should mention that the leader of my village will most likely force his induction into our military forces. He is not ours, but his gift with nature is nearly unprecedented,'_ Shikamaru said a bit sheepishly. He felt like apologizing in advance for the stupidity the council would put in action.

The king just huffed in response before delivering his response.

 _'Though I am hesitant to allow it to happen, it is necessary. The future has always been shrouded in darkness, but your 'Aoime' as you call him has enough love in his heart to light the way.'_

 _'That's... cool. Awesome.'_ Why was it that he felt so uncomfortable when elders decided to speak in riddles? He felt the topic had closed and was relieved when the king's presence receded from his mind.

Since he now had nothing to do but perhaps cloud watch, he reclined on a tree and let his eyes droop lazily.

Not even a minute later, playful footsteps sounded before the impish face of Aoime appeared in his line of sight, blocking out the sky.

"The tree does not like you doing that," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "'Ask politely' is what King always says!" Shikamaru gingerly sat up, thinking of how smoother Aoime's speech had gotten since they've started their "lessons."

"I'm sorry, I guess. I don't know what the trees are saying, so I hadn't thought to ask first." His neck was still bent to inspect the fluffy masses floating in the azure expanse. 'Ah, that cloud looks like a mushroom. I wonder if Chouji ever went shiitake farming like he wanted.'

"Hm. I am bored."

Shikamaru snorted. "Then look up. Or look around. Anything can entertain you, even something as simple as bubbles."

"Bubbles?"

"Do you not have a name for them?" He pointed to the shallow part of the river, pockets of air resurfacing from the frothing depths.

"Oh! They go *pop,* don't they?" he said, pressing his lips together and rolling them out to make the *pop* sound. Shikamaru chuckled, relieved that Aoime's childishness remained intact even after his advancing education. He didn't want to change him, just be able to understand him better and vice versa.

"Yes, those are what I'm talking about. There's a way to make them the motion of the river, and they last a bit longer as well. Would you like to try it?"

Aoime's eyes practically gleamed in excitement; it was always thrilling for him to try new things that The People had invented.

I think I brought some for you to try out, give me a second." He rifled around in his kunai pouch first, then moved on to the many pockets of his chuunin vest. On his third pocket, he found the little tube of bubbles, satisfied he's kept it from those damn kids' last prank. He unscrewed the cap, took out the miniature wand and made a show of blowing a few bubbles.

Aoime was mesmerized, and his hand reached out to touch the one nearest to him. When his finger made contact, it dispersed making that same "popping" sound he'd demonstrated earlier.

Aoi's eyes grew round, a little panicked that he's broken the rainbow bubble, but calmed when he saw that Shikamaru was trying not to laugh. At this, he pouted.

"Don't laugh!" he yelled, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Yes, yes, your majesty. I live only to tend to your bubbly needs," the Nara said, dragging out his sentences to sound mocking. He blew more bubbles before Aoime could catch on though.

A clawed hand swiped at the delicate spheres, and they promptly met their untimely demise. Expectant eyes fell on him like a weight, and he couldn't help but sigh in fake annoyance before complying with the unspoken demands.

Round after round of bubbles met their ends in ways similar to the first and second batches, and Shikamaru was hard-pressed to keep his supply up for the demand. But he was determined.

Eventually, Shikamaru tried using his Shadow Possession Jutsu to try to control a bubble, and attempt to keep it out of the blond's reach to keep him entertained. And maybe to have some fun himself, but no one else had to know.

Sadly, his plan didn't work and he had to continue churning out bubbles. But then the inevitable happened.

He ran out of breath.

Falling backward in almost comical slow-motion, he collapsed to the grassy ground, red-faced and puffing for all he was worth. The remainder of the bubbles spilled beside him, and all he could do was feel some sort of vicious satisfaction that the bubbles were no more. All the while, Aoime was positively _howling_ with laughter at his expense, just short of rolling on the floor with how low he was leaning over and clutching at his stomach.

"It's not funny," the raven grumbled, cheeks still ruddy from a mixture of embarrassment and shortness of breath. When the blond showed no signs in stopping his torment, Shikamaru's eye started twitching and he ground out, "I'll get you back at some point. When you least expect it, I will have my revenge." And that was a promise.

 **WARNING: LONG A/N AHEAD!**

 **1\. I am so sorry I left this alone for so long. This was just so long that I kept staring at the page thinking "what now?" I also admit to page-length pressure getting to me. Not from any of you guys, but from myself really. But hey, it's a long update, right?**

 **2\. I also got a rough timeline figured out, so by now the Suna/Oto invasion has already taken place, (+Gaara's dead,) Tsunade's Hokage, and Sasuke's defected, (though that's not exactly relevant to the plot anymore...)**

 **3\. Unfortunately, this might end up being a pretty long fanfic, and it might also end with an angsty ending. If that does happen, I'm fully prepared to take responsibility for any emotional damage I may have caused and start a sequel.**

 **That's not set in stone though, so we'll just take this one step at a time and we'll cross that bridge when we get there.**

 **4\. I have the events for the story planned out, so more characters will be introduced, I'll have to write shitty action scenes, (well, write in general,) and there's more waiting involved. Sorry about that, and my final note:**

 **5\. To clarify, this is a bXb novel. Beyond mild swearing and gore, there will be nothing Rated R or 18+. if I do write anything of that nature, it will be in the sequel or a separate** oneshot **. Yes, the main pairing is gay, but I don't think I really need to make EVERYBODY gay, so main pairings will be present for the most part with the exception of figuring out what the hell I need to do with Team 7.**

 **We all thought the 7 in the first chapter was a typo, (even myself,) but I now realize where the mix up was. Naruto was kicked out of the pack at age 7 and has lived with his tree for 7 years. 7+7=14, which was his age before the story progressed. Now, both Naruto/Aoime and Shikamaru are 15. I don't know if anyone's picked up on it, but it's autumn, around the beginning of November, I'd say.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Oh hey, it didn't take me a year to update this time.**

He wasn't ready for this.

He'd gained permission to introduce Aoime to some other people and had briefly brought up the idea to Chouji, but it was still nerve-wracking to know that he was technically harboring a potential threat to Konoha. If he was found out, he could be killed regardless of his position as clan heir.

In fact, it could put his clan under suspicion as he's next to be the leading and representing face.

 _Stop thinking._

Sometimes it was better to just stop thinking about overcomplicated things and let it be. He already knew the risks and consequences for this whole situation, and about 12 or more outcomes depending on certain key aspects and who would or wouldn't be involved. Only a few were good, and none involved leaving Aoime to himself.

No, it was better to stop thinking of it since he had absolutely no intention of backing out now. Especially since Ao had basically imprinted on him like a duckling and might just attempt to find him himself should Shikamaru stop showing up for their "playdates."

And that was both incredibly endearing and terrifying at the same time. To think that Aoime depends on him that much and would perhaps fear for his wellbeing at an irregularity in behavior showed a huge amount of trust, and that had never happened before. Most assumed that he'd be a man who used the rules as loopholes to expend as little energy as possible, as per his typical lazy and slightly cold persona. And that hurt, to know that your comrades hold so little faith in you.

God, that's depressing. He couldn't even get his mind to do such a simple task as stop thinking! Was he really the lauded genius of the Naras?

"What's got you thinking so hard? Is it your _girlfriend?"_ Ino's distinctively bossy voice sounded from a little behind his shoulder. Startled, he had to quench the knee-jerk reaction to reach into his kunai pouch at his hip.

"For the last time, she's not my girlfriend." She sidled up next to him and grinned.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," she said, clearly not believing his word.

"Girls are too troublesome," he muttered, missing the hint of realization in his companion's crystalline blue eyes.

"So, what's on your mind?"

Should he tell her? They used to be on the same genin team, but she was also the gossip queen of the village. But maybe he could release some half-truths to satisfy her curiosity...

"I have this _friend_ who's from out of the village. Not another ninja village, but definitely not Konoha." She rolled her eyes at this, thinking this was one of those cliché routines where the "friend" in question was really nim. His eye almost twitched, but he kept his composure.

"You see, they don't have a traveler's permit, but it's dangerous for them to remain where they are. I can't exactly hide them in one of our vacant clan houses, so I'm wondering if you may have any ideas."

She thought for a moment, serious now that it was a non-romantic situation.

"... _Well_ , the simplest solution is to register them as a citizen and maybe _speed along_ the process behind the scenes. But you've already thought of this, haven't you." He had, and of course she realized that.

"The only problem with this plan is that the council will likely kick up a fuss because of some certain _extra abilities_ they possess." That brought her up short before she gained a thoughtful expression.

"Hmmm; that is a problem. I would say the best thing you can do is file the paperwork and discreetly introduce them to prominent people to gain a majority vote if the issue ever goes to the council. A majority vote can easily outdo the double votes of the elders. As an heir, I trust you are well versed in politics?"

He snorted. Of course he was trained in weathering the storm of personal interests. It was training all heirs underwent, including Ino. He could play the game just fine when he wanted to, thank you very much.

"Exactly," she continued. "Beat them at the game if you can't hide this friend of yours. Honestly, I don't see any hope of you keeping this something like this secret for long, so I suggest you get to work. In the meantime, my lips are sealed shut. Maybe you could show up on time every once in a while to repay me," she said, only half-joking.

"Maybe," he said. They both knew the chance of that happening would be like Jiraiya saying he has renounced his ways to be a monk and would never peep again. In conclusion: most likely never.

And she knew this too, so she just huffed and pretended to be irritated. "Well alright. I think I'm gonna head off to the hot springs. I'm meeting with the girls, and there's always a pervert or two to entertain us. And Shikamaru?"

"Hm?"

"Watch out for those pesky toads. I hear they're found in the most inconspicuous of places."

His gaze sharpened minutely; it seems Jiraiya was in town.

"Understood. And do try to keep him in one piece." She grinned like a shark who's caught scent of blood.

"He'll be fine in the end."

 _In the bushes by the fence of a certain inn, a man with distinctive white hair and a bloody nose shoots up, a chill down his spine and a healthy dose of fear instilled. A cold sweat runs down his neck and he laughs nervously._

 _"Maybe I should come by another day...?"_

 **I brought up majority votes in that bit of politics because logically, the elders would count as 2 votes, and Danzo would count as 3 because he's from a clan. There are 17 clans of Konoha, so it would be easy to outvote the 6 votes given to the elders, and that's why the majority is most important. The only problem is when the civilian council comes in, and how easily bought they are...**

 **And uh, this is short and filler-ish, but I want to give you guys something more so I can move on and not take forever. Fair enough, yeah?**


	7. Chapter 7

**I promise the plot is going somewhere. Oh, and I managed to update before the end of the year! Go me!**

For once, Aoime was bored. Oftentimes he had little time to stop and just think, so this was fairly new for him. He was usually on the prowl for the small snacks that made up his meals or washing his scent away if it got too strong, or _-more recently-_ spending time with Shika.

The other boy had come almost every other sun, (or day,) before now, but it had been over five moons by his count since he had last seen the People. So now Aoime was bored.

Maybe he would venture out towards the edge of the woods again...

There's no harm in looking for his People, right? When in doubt, Shika could always entertain him. So the blond jumped up from his pile of furs and set on meandering away from his den to the "village," as Shika calls it. He would never understand how there was no infighting with everyone's dens in such close proximity.

While he walked, he resumed his habitual foraging and switched between walking in-between the plants and atop the thicker branches of the sturdy trees. His feet were light, unhindered by those things the People were so fond of wearing on their feet.

The sounds produced by civilization filtered through the tranquility of leaf-filtered sunlight and slow, rhythmic puffs of exhaled air. He was getting closer.

By the time he came to almost breaking the treeline, he paused. He climbed higher to see above the fence that served as a pitiful first-defense that "protected the village." He'd have to watch out for those guards that patrol.

Aoime assessed the social dynamics in front of him: the common attire, the tones of speech, an individual's posture in a group as they passed on the busy path dug flat in the ground. And then he realized that in his skin wrappings, he would never blend in. He'd be like a squirrel among a troop of monkeys!

Thinking fast, he saw a pile of fabrics peeking out of a large box. Just sitting there, unattended with something he couldn't read scrawled across the side of it. Well, it certainly didn't look like someone cared much for it, and that suited his purposes perfectly.

Hopping to the ground and staying low in a crouch, he crawled near to the line of planks. Though clearly having been dead for some time, this wood was once many thriving trees, and thus easily collected and stored nature chakra.

Using this chakra to ease his way through, Aoime melded into the wood and came out on the other side. Finally, he could see the People up close. But this was no time to observe the strange rituals of the People, he was on a mission!

He headed towards that box he had spotted just moments ago and rifled through what it had to offer. He didn't know much about clothing, but even _he_ could tell that the items were of a new type of hideous.

Bright green suits of an abnormally stretchy material, red pants with fringes lining the sides as bright as cherries, and an orange suit of a truly shocking shade with numerous pockets and bold blocks of blue and a wide white collar.

Of his limited choices, this had to be the most aesthetically appealing.

So he unclothed himself and carefully pulled the suit up his legs, up his torso, and finally on his arms. It was loose, but it would be fine. Although he was thankful that he oriented the fabric this way instead of how he'd pulled it out. His bits would've been freezing...

He carefully stowed away his furs after dispersing everything from his pouch to a few of the many pockets and dusted himself off. He was still barefoot, but what did it matter?

Aoime watched the flow of foot traffic for a moment before swiftly joining, working to imitate the straight postures and long strides, the somewhat jerky and slow paces of those around him. It took a bit of effort to unfurl from his slightly hunched, predatory walk. He was used to walking smoothly so there was less chance of creating noises that would startle the deer or any quarry.

And he didn't know why, but they were all so _slow._ He could notice in what little form that was apparent through their thick layers of fabric that the majority had more skin than needed, skin that looked squishy and rippled with every step they took. Was that normal here? Was that appealing to their mates? Honestly, he just _couldn't understand_ these People. The vast majority of their lifestyle that he had witnessed made no sense to him!

Why have more weight that will slow you down when running or hunting? Did they not notice how easily a wolf or two could pick them off with how slow they were going, with the pungent scents clogging his nose that smelled vaguely of flowers?

He doubted he would ever come to understand them, but he only needed _his_ People, not all of them. His People at least _tried_ to understand how wrong they were. And he taught Aoime many things so they could talk and enjoy each other's company. His People had a smaller pool of chakra than himself, (though larger than these People around him), with chakra of a distinctly masculine dark blue.

That's it! He could track him down!

Aoime was feeling a little giddy at the ease of which he could find Shika and decided to make it similar to their previous tracking games. Shika was the prey, Ao the hunter.

He imagined the People as the trees, the perfect places to hide. His azure eyes scanned his surroundings, pinpointing the two shadows that seemed to be lingering suspiciously in an alley and atop a roof. Patrols.

The whiskered boy sweated a bit but was determined to continue on his mission. It wouldn't do to arouse even more suspicion by acting abnormally. Think! What could he do to shake their curiosity...?

A heavenly smell made his stomach rumble, not unlike a growl. Taking a chance, he smiled and followed it to the source.

After a few paces, he came across a small building emitting steam and that delicious aroma, enthusiastic People sitting and eating a soup that he had never seen! He came closer to investigate. An older man was behind a small wooden barrier cooking while a younger girl was talking to the People eating or handing out more food.

"Hello! Would you like to order anything today? Our special of the day is miso ramen, though another popular item on the menu in shoyu ramen." She was enthusiastic and seemed to be giving out... _ramen?_ Was that the name of this dish?

He would certainly like to try it, but he didn't know the difference between the two!

"Ah... miso?"

"What size?"

"I don't know. What are the differences?"

"We have small, medium, or large. There is 10 ryo difference between the three, but the small is the cheapest."

"That then."

"Alright; and would you like that with chicken, beef, or pork?"

Chicken? Pork? Ryo? This was harder than he'd thought. The People had so many things that the forest did not provide.

"None."

He felt as if everyone's eyes were pinned to him, and he shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like that he didn't know what she was talking about, but she wasn't exactly explaining either.

"Okay, that'll be ready for you in just a moment," she said, unfazed by his somewhat curt answers. She turned to yell at the man in the back of the small place. "A small plain miso, dad!"

"Comin' up!"

A People stood up, having finished eating, and slid some paper on the table.

"Thanks, Ayame! Delicious as always!" he said, walking away to rejoin the flock of People.

"Thank you, come again!" she called after him, taking the notes and stowing them in a pocket at the bottom of her wrap.

What were those that she just took? Was he supposed to give her something in return for the food?! All he had were nuts, berries, and a bunch of mushrooms! Suddenly he didn't feel so good about this...

"Here you are! One small miso ramen just for you," she said, cheerfully setting it at the place the man had just vacated, and he realized the time to back out had come and gone without him realizing. A small sliver of wood was placed in front of him as well when he sat down. But why?

"Thank you..."

"Enjoy your meal." _Finally,_ she turned away from him, and he stared at the piece of wood as if hoping it would jump up and give detailed instructions on its use like Shika did many times before. It did no such thing.

His eyes shifted to the patrons on the other end of the bar, quietly taking notes on how they held the sticks after he'd noticed they'd split the wood in half.

 _One on the third finger, and one on the second... Under thumb... You can open and close like that? So strange..._ While he definitely didn't get it the first try, he was still fairly successful with the sticks. Still, he struggled to grasp a noodle and make sure it wouldn't fall back into the bowl.

Up, up it went, and he thought he _may_ have gotten the hang of it. The noodles showed no sign of slipping, and he finally took it to his mouth. He was completely unprepared for the explosive flavor that greeted his taste buds, and the resulting _moan_ of bliss. All frustrations blown away, he was much more motivated to finish the dish before him. This _"ramen."_ He was sure The People were staring now, but he couldn't stop himself from shoveling as much of the noodles in his mouth as he could, as fast as he could.

When there was nothing but broth left, he hurriedly picked up the bowl and slurped it down. He wouldn't mind trading water for the ambrosia that was ramen! In the inevitable, the bowl ran empty.

He knew the time would come, but he didn't have the sense of mind to brace himself for the imminent tragedy. And a tragedy it was.

Tears nearly pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he swore that a time of mourning was needed. How could any such respect be denied for the "death" of the holy ramen? Such an error had to be quickly reconciled.

Clapping his hands and bowing his head, Aoime couldn't help the mumbled streams of prayer that spewed from his mouth, frantic to prove his dedication and conviction in the ramen. Of course, this garnered quite a few stares, and a slight hush fell over the small diner, but that was no cause for stopping. There are certain things that absolutely _must_ be done, no matter the consequences. _This_ was one of those things.

As he was praying, the girl stopped midway through taking an order to stare. Confusion, incredulity, then amusement shone through her brown eyes.

It was flattering to know that her family recipe, the thing she was set to inherit and make her own could bring forth such a fanatic reaction. And though she didn't exactly want to disturb this stranger, unfortunately, she had a job to do.

"Um, excuse me... Could I take that bowl from you? Or you can get a refill." The boy stopped his muttering to stare at her, as if not quite comprehending what she was asking.

"I have no... _ryo_ for this ramen. Can you take something other?" He seemed kind of embarrassed and guilty that he had no money. He also talked kind of strangely. Maybe he was a rogue orphan? Ayame didn't really know how to address the situation. Ryo had been the standard currency for all her life, so she couldn't just give out free bowls of ramen; that would be catastrophic to the business if word got around the village! But he _did_ mention he had something else to trade for it... Well, bargaining used to be well practiced, so why not see what he's got?

"What do you have to trade for the ramen? We can see if we can come to an agreement." Hesitantly, the boy reached down into one of his many pockets and pulled out a handful of something.

Putting them on the table, she could see that they were mushrooms.

And then she looked closer and realized that these mushrooms were fresh and not dried, and though known to her, were incredibly rare due to their growing habits and seasons, making it more effort than it's worth for most mycologists and other groups who gather wild native ingredients.

In short, they were very valuable ingredients.

"Would you happen to have any more of these mushrooms?" He shook his head 'no.' "Then these will do," she said, sweeping all the mushrooms into her another of her apron pockets. "Tell me, would you be willing to continue trading mushrooms for ramen? It looked like you really liked it, and we can always use quality ingredients like these."

He nodded in response, a shy grin slowly growing. To have more of this ramen, and only for some gatherings of mushrooms? That was an investment if he'd ever seen one.

"Alright then. Whenever you fancy a bowl, come to Ichiraku Ramen with your pockets loaded. You're always welcome here," she said, taking the bowl and turning away.

* * *

Honestly, after that huge ramen and ryo debacle, Aoime wasn't completely sure he should continue on his self-appointed 'mission.' Yes, he discovered the single holiest thing to all mankind, and yes, he managed to escape the notice of the village's patrols, but was this really worth it?

The answer was yes; his People was _always_ worth it.

So he continued slowly weaving in between People in the crowded paths, subtly keeping his senses alert for Shika's chakra signature. With so many People surrounding him, the only way for him to locate his People was to ignore the dim signatures around him, _(they were like bugs with how much they possessed, even less than a plant,)_ and simply walk until he could sense Shika.

There were a few false alarms when he grew lax and started looking only for larger reserves; that led to him following a few People he assumed Shika called 'ninja.'

So here he was, nose stinging from the repugnant mix of smells and boredom creeping in once more. The clothes he wore were starting to chafe his skin, unused to so much coverage as it was, and his feet ached from walking upon the hard ground for so long. How he wished there were trees to jump to; the tallest things around him were inanimate, unfeeling buildings.

He supposed those would have to do.

Taking off at a slight run towards one of the side alleys, he ran to a wall and used his momentum to jump off the side. Using the wall as a springboard, he ricocheted off the walls, repeatedly jumping from wall to wall until he reached the roof.

Crouching low as was familiar to him, he sprinted towards the nearest building. He leaped off the edge, absolutely sure in his body's capabilities, and soared over the space in between. Looking over, he saw another doing something similar. He almost tensed, but soon realized with the addition of others that this type of transportation was common as well.

Then he realized that these people were doing it a bit differently. They leaned forward a bit more and seemed to exert less effort. But how?

His check for Shikamaru revealed the secret to him. Little blips of chakra would spike then disappear in short bursts, most likely being used with every step to propel them forward more strongly and effortlessly than they would if they simply ran the old-fashioned way. Aoime knew this was probably similar to walking on water like he did to visit Father, and wanted to give it a try.

Keeping his senses attuned to the chakra spikes associated with the technique, he observed the timing that went into charging the feet, then releasing the pent-up energy almost _before_ the foot touched the ground.

Bringing up just about as much chakra as he would use to walk on the river, he cautiously primed it, then imitated the way they ran, hoping he didn't blow himself up by using too much. Thankfully, that wasn't a problem. The way he almost fell on his face when the chakra stuck slightly, was.

It was hard releasing the chakra so abruptly, making sure it didn't try to apply as an adhesive or blow a hole through the roof he was running upon _while_ also trying to synchronize the process to his running steps _and_ jump from roof to roof. Against all odds, he actually managed to get the hang of the technique, but certainly not on his first try. But each step got easier, and soon he was bounding with the rest of them, easily keeping and even going ahead in some cases thanks to his trained and sturdy muscles.

And being above the crowd made his search much easier. He didn't have to walk at such a slow pace, there were fewer People to ignore in favor of carefully sifting through the signatures he could make out.

Brown, red, violet, green, pink, blue, _(not his blue,)_ grey; there were so many with sizable pools of chakra. It was strange though how some large sections of the village were brimming with a mostly exclusive color, skimming on the edges of his senses. And seeing such vibrant shades was amazing to him! Animals had less personality than People, so naturally there was less color to their chakra, _(and less in general.)_ It was like the colors were watered-down versions of what he was seeing now, the colors desaturated compared the Peoples'.

And just when he was about to give up on his search and head back towards the forest and his clothes, a blue similar to Shikamaru's caught his attention. Upon closer inspection, he saw that not far off from that, there was a whole _multitude_ of blue chakra signatures; some close in hue to the sky on a sunny day, others as dark as the river waters when the moon came out to play.

So he adjusted his course towards the veritable sea of chakra and continued on with his newly developed roof-hopping method, not tiring in the slightest.

The village wasn't as big as he had thought, compared to the number of People that inhabited it. (Of course, he had yet to see the apartment buildings that allowed for more People in less space, but he likely would have compared them to the trees he loved so much and their many levels of branches,)

Soon enough, Aoime arrived to a slightly more secluded area, one that was quite calm and peaceful. There was no one haggling for wares or aromatic stalls beckoning to hungry patrons, but only rows of houses that were more wood than rock.

The occasional People passed him by, but none of them seemed to really give him more than a cursory glance. Unlike the People of the bustling path, they all shared similar physical traits, so maybe they were a pack? Aoime still failed to understand how they could possibly cohabitate in such close quarters, but he could respect and even admire such a tightly knit pack. Though between the blue chakras and gleaming black ponytails, there was no sign of Shikamaru. So the search went on.

At this point, the blond was getting frustrated, homesick, and kind of lonely. This game wasn't fun anymore and he just wanted to see Shikamaru.

He slowly trudged on, paying less attention to his surroundings than he had the whole afternoon. He knew that no one was looking, but he could feel their eyes seem to follow him, and he burned with a feeling of unbelonging. He could finally see trees at a small distance, but _nothing was familiar to him._ Not the wooden dwellings, not the smooth dyed cloths, and certainly not the _number of People._ There were so much that he felt he was drowning.

He was hyperventilating now, unknowingly gasping for breath while desperately clutching at his throat like that would ease the airway. Things were blurring; there were hands touching him now, scorching his skin, and _he couldn't breathe._

His vision went black and a presence could be felt by the heat burning his back and they leaned close to his ear, using the hand he realized was covering his eyes to gently pull his head back.

"Breathe."

He didn't know this voice. He didn't know what was happening. He just wanted this People to be Shikamaru.

"You need to _breathe_. Calm down; think about taking a deep breath in, keep it in for as long as you can, then exhale. This will only stop if you calm down enough to think rationally."

His breath stuttered and he struggled to meet this People's demands. He focused on taking a deep lungful of air, as much as he could possibly take in, then explosively let it out again after holding it for a few excruciating seconds.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest, almost drowning out anything else the People might have said, but he still tried to calm himself. Slowly, he realized he was starting to breathe a bit easier with each new breath, and his panic gave way to embarrassment. His body felt warm, and he was sure he was flushing terribly.

The grip around his eyes loosened and the People retreated from his personal space once it was clear Aoime had a handle on his breathing patterns. Aoime had to squint against the newfound brightness as the sun's rays figuratively stabbed his eyes repeatedly.

A hand made itself known, offered palm-up to perhaps assist him. As if this People hadn't done enough.

He sniffed at the palm before putting his hand in theirs and was promptly pulled up from his position on the hard ground. A brief sense of vertigo made itself known when he stumbled a bit, but quickly regained his center of gravity. The air between them was distinctly awkward and he was painfully aware of the group of curious People that'd formed during his episode dissipating.

Cracking under pressure, he cleared his throat.

"Thank you. That has never happened before..."

"Ah," the stranger said lamely, his posture slouched and deceptively lazy. "I take it you are one of the many who have social anxiety. Are you sure that's never happened before? It's a large village, and there're too many situations where an episode like that's likely."

"I'm not... from around here. I am not usually in the village." 'Never' was the truth, but that would be suspicious, would it not?

"That explains why I haven't seen you around. Though had I not known _each_ and _every_ shinobi in service to Konoha, I would've mistaken you for a ninja from your roof-hopping." Aoime felt like there was an unspoken question somewhere in there, but he was too untrained in social etiquette to decipher what this man was asking.

"I uh, I just learned? I am not a shinobi. My... friend is though. But not me." The other's gaze sharpened unnoticeably at this, his frame slightly tenser at this admission.

"You lookin' for them? That's really the only reason why an outsider comes to the clan grounds."

"I am, but I don't know if I can find him here. I only came because everyone's chakra was kind of similar to his..." The man in front of him choked at this. Only highly skilled ninja developed a skill for sensing chakra, and naturally, only a small few actually did due to the work that goes into its training. There was _no way_ this kid could be anything less than a highly skilled professional. But he didn't strike him as an assassin if he'd freely give away such vital information...

"If he's a shinobi, I probably know him. What's his name, squirt?" A test to look for any giving reactions. If this kid was a mole, he was a damn stupid one. Might as well try to root them all out.

"Shikamaru!"

Time stopped. The clouds stopped drifting, his clansmen stopped all movement and his brain stopped functioning.

Oh god, please tell him that his own _son_ hadn't given up his village.

 **Lol, I left that at a cliffhanger. 😈😇**

 **I don't really know what happened here. Seriously; this whole chapter threw me for the loop and I had to scrap a bit of my outline to accommodate... And that bit about social anxiety? Yeah, I have similar breakdowns like this every so often, so this isn't an imagined account. And I thought that the stress of an entirely new environment would eventually negatively affect him, no matter how extroverted he is. His only human interaction has been with Shikamaru, a lazy and generally quiet Nara that's completely practical in his wardrobe and actions.**

 **But it makes me so incredibly happy to see that this story is gaining popularity and more spotlight, that so many people are taking the chance to read this tiny story based off of an admittedly vague synopsis. Really, I can't thank you guys enough for sticking with me.**

 **But enough of that. Here's a fun fact: according to the manga illustrations, Naruto's chakra is actually yellow. So the trademark blue rasengan was actually just a mistake in the coloring process of the anime. Also found out the official conversion rate for ryo is 10 yen=1 ryo, and 10 ryo=1 US dollar.**

 **P.S. Do my notes bother you? I notice on Wattpad the majority of you skip it...**

 **Please leave a comment; they make me happy and motivated!**

 **(Also trying to format on FFN is a bitch.)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Dudes, I'm so satisfied to have finally capped 15k words. And there's some Narushika action for y'all.**

* * *

"So explain to me why there is a _completely unknown_ boy walking around the village saying that he's friends with you. As far as I knew, only Chouji and _sometimes_ Ino counted as your real friends."

Shikamaru was sweating bullets. He'd be hard-pressed to formulate a believable lie detailed enough for his father to not be suspicious, (though it was too late for that,) and already the ball was too far out of his court to completely control. This entire situation was snowballing and _of course_ he had underestimated important factors like Konoha being a _ninja village_ and the secret being unaware that he was a secret!

Why couldn't this all go according to plan? This was entirely too troublesome and already he felt his will to lie through his teeth slipping. Taking a breath, he steeled himself.

"I met him on a mission a while back, and it recently came to my attention that it was dangerous for him to remain in his home village," he said evenly. A raised eyebrow was signal enough for him to continue and that Shikaku wasn't buying this load of horse crap.

"See, he was born in the Fire Country, but he clearly looks like he's from Earth Country. It was fine for a while since he was a child, but with tensions growing on the borders and him growing up, the villagers are more inclined to gossip and speculate. It's dangerous for him." His father's lips pursed, a sure sign that he would need more information to begin to pretend to go along with this.

"So I invited him to stay in the village; maybe try out to be a shinobi."

"A little too old, don't you think," was Shikaku's flat reply.

"Even if he doesn't go through the genin academy, he could test privately for registration, then go to the chūnin exams when ready. You of all people should know that there're more options than the _academy_ to be a ninja." Shikamaru: 1, Shikaku: 0.

"And how did you plan to achieve this? You yourself are still a chūnin; you're underqualified for taking on an apprentice. This person will have to learn all the basics, the history, the rules and regulations that take normal children 5 years to comprehend with very open and flexible minds. It might be too late for him."

Shikamaru scoffed. Aoime was highly intelligent, just not in an orthodox way. If anyone could do it, he could.

"He can do it. He's not from another hidden village, so there's no need for any transitional therapy to shift his affiliations, and I'm sure he'll be more than willing to learn. He can already manipulate his chakra, and that's what takes up the bulk of what the academy teaches the children! _He can do this."_

"Then what about his mental stability?! I came to find him hyperventilating on clan grounds, trembling and ready to pass out.

Shikamaru felt guilty at that; that he wasn't there, that he hadn't thought of that happening as a possible outcome, that that was his first experience in the beautiful village he called home.

"Maybe we can find him a house on the edge of Konoha and slowly acclimate him to the increased population. And if there's no house to be found, then I can make one. God knows I've been on enough carpentry genin missions to accomplish that." Shikaku still seemed a bit doubtful but had eased back a bit.

"...alright. I'll allow this once, but if I see that he's a danger to the village in _any way,_ not even your mother could stop me from dealing with him." The hard glint of the serious promise in his eyes made Shikamaru gulp.

"I understand, Commander." Commander, because this man before him was not his father, not at this moment.

"Good." His hard demeanor shifted to the more relaxed countenance known to every Nara. "Now see to him and make sure he's alright after his little episode." With his part said and point made, the elder Nara walked out without a backward glance. When he was sure his father was no longer in the vicinity, Shikamaru folded upon himself and hefted a long, tired sigh that spoke of tremendous fatigue born of hard trials.

He remembered being told that Aoime was in a private room calming down when he was first summoned, but he wasn't sure if the blond had resumed his habit of wandering while he'd been preoccupied.

 _Well, there's only one way to check._

Padding down the hallways of the compound with the trained grace of a killer, he headed in the direction of the guest rooms. _Would they put him in a guest room, or maybe an empty meeting room? No, there's no way he'd be anywhere near a place to access sensitive information if they think he's an outsider. Guest wing it is._

The clan compound was huge. It was a necessity, seeing as all clan affairs were conducted within the confines of one of the many rooms built in the wooden structure. His analytical eyes spied the artistically precise squiggles of the various seals designed for protection, concealed within the guise of paintings or tapestries. Unlike the Hyūga compound, the decorations served a purpose other than staving off the impression of militaristic sparsity.

It was a cleverly simple concept, inspired by the traditional sealing arrays tattooed upon the Uzumakis before their genocide, and perfectly befitting of the Nara family motto: _Firm, Fair and Prudent._

The occasional decoration that no doubt held a spare poison or weapon would be set upon a windowsill, but there were no luxuries beyond those. The walls were a dark wood with intermittent panels of light green, and traditional woven tatami mats ran the length of the hall and most probably the rest of the residence as well.

Unfortunately, no building was allowed to be taller than the Hokage Tower, so their maze of traditionalism was confined to one floor only.

He hardly noticed the few servants hurrying along past him, all vetted Naras that were to be trusted and thus employed within this lower level bureaucracy. None of them were ninja, but still, they adopted the skills of those that frequented the building.

The guest wing itself was mostly empty at all times, both to prevent any clashes with foreign dignitaries or merchants and because the majority of high-ranking Naras lived at various points in the residence as well. Shikamaru had managed to strike a deal and land himself one of the small houses lying just outside the large building but was unable to completely separate himself from the land thanks to his status as clan heir.

It struck him how quiet everything was, having expected Aoime to be kicking up a fuss by now. He knew that while his conversation with Shikaku had been short, he hadn't been there for the window of time when his blond friend had arrived and when he'd arrived, having received a short message via messenger-hawk-in-training.

Seeing an unoccupied servant, he headed over to him, making the other pause while straightening a small decoration.

"Do you know where our newest guest was escorted? My father had neglected to inform me." Best not to alert too many people of his connection to Aoime; there were far too many prone to prying, and not even a Nara was immune to gossip.

The servant nodded slightly, stoic in his demeanor. His clothes consisted primarily of dark blue, and there was a prominent scar adorning his cheek, continuing down to his collarbone and beneath his loose shirt. Most likely a veteran on leave or released from service.

"He was escorted to The Coffee Room. We do currently have other guests, so if you have trouble finding the room, please ask me or another servant." He bowed slightly and resumed his task.

Of course, any Nara familiar with the layout knew of the positions and names of all the rooms, but really it's just a test to alert any others if he were an intruder. Though subtlety was always important in the clan, it was also a slight inside joke to escort guests to specific rooms indicating anything from their perceived personality to the expected duration of their stay. The Coffee Room was unmarked like all the others, but indicated a need for a pick-me-up in the addition of having the interior decor coordinate with its "unofficial" name.

The vague image of Aoime experiencing the effects of coffee or any other form of caffeine was slightly horrifying, making Shikamaru pause and shudder slightly while acknowledging that all forms of caffeine and sugar needed to be kept firmly away from the blond, for the sake of everyone involved.

When he stopped in front of the door, he stopped again to mentally prepare himself for the imminent breakdown that would occur.

While there was a suspicious lack of noise for the moment, there was no guarantee that that would last for long. It was best to go in expecting the worst.

Not bothering to knock, he slid the door open, bracing himself for the impact of the slightly smaller blond...but none came. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of the boy tucked in the corner farthest from the door, curled up and asleep.

Upon closer inspection, his eyes were red and slightly swollen from crying, and his eyebrows scrunched together. He'd probably fallen asleep scared and crying, exhausted from the stress. The sight made Shikamaru extremely sad, hoping that his presence could alleviate some of the tension; even just a little bit.

He cautiously held out a hand, poking the blond softly in the shoulder.

Immediately, Aoime's eyes shot open and he twisted his body 'til he landed on all fours, hunched down defensively while growling at the perceived threat. A second later, Aoime seemed to come to himself and registered that it was just Shikamaru. Shikamaru was here now.

Blue eyes teared up again, and the blond shot up to embrace Shikamaru's middle. A few silent sobs wracked the boy's body while Shikamaru could only rub his back in what he hoped was a comforting way.

"I-," he sniffed, then tried again. "I missed you." Shikamaru looked a bit uncomfortable, like a deer in the headlights, then smiled sadly when he looked down to the shuddering body so attached to him, both mentally and physically.

"Yeah; I missed you too."

The lack of response worried the Nara, prompting him to lower them to the ground. Slowly manipulating Aoime out of his position, he had the boy set his head in his lap. Carding his calloused fingers through the soft strands, he tried again.

"I'm sorry for not coming back sooner; I was on a mission..."

Aoime sniffled again, but chose to roll to look up at him. Large hopefull eyes looked up to him, practically shimmering in the light.

"Can we play now?"

He nodded slightly, a smile playing at his lips with the unspoken signal that things were alright now.

And then he was on his back. His breath whooshed out with a groan at the impact, the tatami mats doing little to cushion his fall. Solid arms clad in orange caged around him, and Aoime looked down with a foxy grin and a glimmer of mischief.

The look was so perfectly _Aoime_ that it stole his breath for a different reason.

Rising to the challenge, he rolled into the other's right arm, causing the blond to let out a surprised yelp as his weight was forced to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, Shikamaru flipped the other to reverse their positions.

Chest heaving slightly from the adrenaline and realization that _this was fun,_ it was his turn to gaze down into the swirling depths of his friend's eyes.

A friend he was, but he certainly wouldn't do this with Chouji. _What was so different?_

Choosing to open that can of worms at a later time, he noticed the uncontrollable giggling of Aoime, laughter lighting up his face, his cheeks flushed and small tears gathering at the corners of his closed eyes. The earth felt like it was ripped right from under him and he was hit with the crushing realization of _fuck, he's attractive._

Absolutely determined to not make it awkward and to address that issue later, he flopped down to lay next to Aoime, content in the moment.

And then all at once, like reality had a habit of doing to him lately, he also realized that they were still in the confines of the clan compound; in the boundaries of Konoha, where any friend could turn out to be foe in delicate matters such as these. There was no time for intricate planning, to acclimate him slowly. It had to be done now before something else like this happened with someone less trusting in his judgment.

And as much as he'd like to wait a bit longer, they were almost out of time.

Turning to look at the now calmed whiskered teen, he was determined to keep him as uninvolved as possible. He did need his opinion on a few things first though.

"How-," he cleared his throat embarrassingly before trying again. "How would you feel about becoming a ninja, like me?" A curious stare answered him.

"I mean, you don't have to serve Konoha and become an officially registered nin, but would you like to learn what I know? I could help you get the skills to protect your forest, your home, your-your den."

"I won't use fire. Never. Fire hurts, but maybe others. I have not seen other uses, but if it helps..."

"I can help you learn to help better, learn to help more quickly and at less of a cost to yourself. But also, I need you to take a photo. It's uh, put simply, it's an image of yourself put on paper. I need to register you as a citizen," he saw he'd lost him a little bit and hurried to simplify it more. "So you can come here and see me as you please, visit me in the village, they need to think that your home is Konoha. You can still live in the forest, but they need to know that you won't be dangerous so you don't get in trouble."

Aoime was still confused but didn't look entirely against the idea.

"How do you get a _photo?"_ he asked skeptically.

"I use something called a camera. I don't have one right now, but I can get one in a few minutes. The sooner we do this, the better." He nodded, beginning to understand the severity of the situation and the importance of this getting done.

"All right. Sit tight; I'll be back shortly." He didn't give him time to respond before he swiftly exited the room, heading back into the heart of Konoha, hoping to quickly find an establishment that allows for rental.

It wasn't actually all that hard, seeing as so many families in a militaristic community were aware of mortality and how easily one can be lost on the field. Family photos were common around here.

A few hundred ryo later and he was set to print 3 photos and rent the camera for a maximum of 5 days as a package deal. His mind preoccupied, he sped back to the edges, back to clan grounds with precisely enhanced steps. His muscles didn't even notice the slight strain of carrying such a bulky contraption while running at high speeds, he was in such a rush.

Hardly ten minutes had passed when he reentered the room, startling Aoime with his sudden reappearance. Disheveled, he calmly set down the large camera on its 4 legs and straightened his ponytail.

"I got it. All _you_ need to do is sit down and stay still for a moment or two." Shikamaru guided Aoime up to sit on the edge of a small cushioned stool off to the side as he said this, situating it so there were no decorations or telling features in the background. After all, an identifying photograph would normally be taken in one of the many _plain_ offices in the Hokage Tower, no?

Imagining a repeat of their first encounter, he grimaced and decided he needed to explain what was happening; try to eliminate some of that surprise factor before he ended up mauled again.

"While you sit here, I'll be behind the camera to take the picture. You can't move, and you have to look straight at me, all right? It's also going to make a bright light flash, but that's normal. It won't hurt you at all, just try not to be alarmed." A determined nod was what he got in response, the blond wiggling a bit to get in a comfortable position before looking at Shikamaru as directed.

 _Well, here goes. Hopefully he won't be startled too much..._

Counting down from three and toying around with the mechanics to get the best image possible, he took the picture. From under the hood of the machine, he could see Aoime blink rapidly, frowning to himself at the light he assumed had assaulted the poor boy's eyeballs.

Just to be sure that there was more than the one photo to choose from, he took another for good measure. He almost took another, but hesitated just before his thumb hit the button. Besides the "moonstones," there was very little shared between them.

He and Chouji had the special custom of sharing the occasional snack with countless childhood photos, even Ino had given him poisons and medical equipment as presents, but with Aoime, there was nothing.

 _I guess I'll just have to change that,_ he mused.

Decision made, he carefully removed himself from the hood, hoping that the handheld button device would be long enough for him to join Aoime on his seat. Turns out, it was, even if just barely.

"I want to take a picture with you. Just look into the lens and smile." Shikamaru pulled the boy close, slinging an arm over his shoulders and leaning into the warmth of the other. Not bothering to look at Aoime, he pushed the button without warning.

The flash went mostly unnoticed, and he finally looked at the other. Blue pools met those of warm grey, his expression unreadable and whiskered cheeks twitching, as if they were real and not birth marks.

He flushed slightly and cleared his throat, hoping to ease the tension that had crept up upon them.

"Thanks," he said, awkwardly shifting away from the blond. _Too close!_ When had that happened?! He avoided eye contact, looking for something, _anything_ to distract him.

Gathering the cord and disassembling the monstrosity of a camera as much as he could, the silence was stifling. Hands empty and with nothing more to do, he knew it would be a long night of work. And after the shitstorm he walked into with Aoime's very unexpected arrival, what better than to kill two birds with one stone by escorting him home while also taking the camera back?

 _And he could see what I love about the village._ He wasn't sure if Aoime'd enjoyed his excursion before he was overwhelmed, but he wanted to share the love of his home with the other just as he'd done for him, even if he didn't quite realize it.

* * *

 **Did I leave it on a cliffhanger? A little bit. Sorry, but I'm super overwhelmed right now and want this chapter to just be done already. Hopefully, I'll start on the next chapter soon.**

 **And let me explain: I'm not given much canon info to work with, nor do I actually keep up with any version of the series, so the family motto is completely made up with the exception of it being historically correct for the Royal Malaysian Police Force. Also, everything about the clan compound is bullshit. What I'm imagining it to be slightly similar to (in concept) is the American White House, but even then I don't know much about it.**

 **I also looked at a canon pic of Shikamaru and saw that his eyes are brown. Now I firmly believe they are grey because 1) I already said so, and 2) grey eyes suit his personality.**

 **One of my resolutions for the year was to update at least one chapter per month, so you might end up getting more updates than usual! (Though that's not saying much...)**

 **Started: 1/23/2019 (-ish. I started like, 200 words in December, but that hardly counts.)**

 **Completed: 1/29/2019**


	9. Chapter 9

**Lol; when you realize you've written over 2k words of A/Ns. (And sorry that this is kind of pt. 2 of the last chapter...)**

* * *

Shikamaru motioned to the sliding door, pointedly looking at Aoime.

"Walk with me; I have to take the camera back and develop the photos," he said. Then he turned on his heel and walked out. Either Aoime would trust him on this and join him, or he'd be left at the compound to his own devices.

He heard the chair scrape across the mats a bit and knew that he would follow. Contrasting to the mad dash he'd made to get the damned thing in the first place, he took the scenic route at a leisurely pace that bordered sluggish, his hands itching to find their home in his pockets.

There were no servants lingering this time, most likely sensing that he was escorting their guest. Good. No need to put Aoime on edge more than he had to.

Their walk was mostly silent, both habitually concealing their presence, sticking to the edges of the bright hallway. There were no questions, no games, no pressures. It was like they were in their own little world, and it was... nice. He couldn't say for Aoime, but he found the atmosphere relaxing, giving him the same feeling he gets when he watches the clouds in the sky.

But at the same time, his paranoia and training told him they were being watched. At every window, he couldn't help but tense slightly. Empty courtyard or sparsely populated street, it didn't matter. He would never have Aoime hurt, and that last scare hit a little too close to home for him to let his guard down now.

And what was he thinking, trying to integrate him into the darkness of Konoha's shadow? His conscience cried out against it. He'd always been brought up knowing he'd join the shinobi forces, but the other knew even less than a civilian child! And that _talent_ , there's no possible way that-

A calloused hand taking hold of his own stopped his thoughts. Blue eyes looked at him with concern, and he forced his posture to relax. How uncharacteristic of him, he mused. But with everything that could happen, (this was a _huge matter,_ damn it,) it probably wasn't the best to leave Aoime in the dark like he did. That was dangerous.

Letting go of that warm hand, he changed their position and interlocked their fingers, taking in the comfort and steeling himself for the little explanation.

"Aoime. You know how I said that you didn't need to be a ninja? That's kind of... well, I'm not sure if that's an option for you." The hand tried to pull away, but Shikamaru kept his firm grip, not letting go. "The thing is, you're special. Not just to me, but because you can speak with trees. I will try to avoid having you drafted, but I'm not sure how much I can do." And that was true. As much as he could plan, he wasn't actually sure how much he could change from what he was almost positive would happen. And he didn't like it.

"You said I would have no need. No fighting, only help. I don't want to hurt others! I don't want to hurt."

"I know! That's why- that's why I'm trying to have you enter as a citizen. If they find out you've been living out in that forest your whole life unaffiliated, they could _hurt_ you. I don't want that, okay! I don't. I just, everything's happening so fast and I have _no control._ I'm sorry," he said, voice cracking at the end. He couldn't bring himself to look up and meet those blue eyes that probably held disappointment.

And that's just what he was good for, wasn't it. Not the genius of the Nara clan, not the prodigy successor of the jounin commander, and certainly not the boy that could keep a promise to Aoime. Fuck, he really was a disappointment.

He was powerless to stop that hand from slipping away from his, and suddenly felt cold. He was surprised when that same hand raised to lift his chin, a roughly-padded thumb reaching to brush away small tears he hadn't even noticed.

Those crystalline eyes speared him with their intensity, his emotions bubbling up to lodge themselves in his throat in the face of those beautiful pools of blue. To his surprise, there was no disappointment, only a kind sense of pity and forgiveness.

When Aoime was sure he had the other boy's attention, he said the few words that nearly broke the other. "It is alright; thank you." A radiant grin followed to reassure, and Shikamaru let go, pulling him in and breaking down into silent sobs.

 _-Line Break-_

Now that he knew Aoime was back safe in his den in the forest, Shikamaru let out a breath. This wasn't the time for any emotion other than determination and conviction; if he was caught, he'd be shipped off to the TI Department, no questions asked. His thoughts organized themselves and his mind sharpened.

He chose to go with a covert operation, but not with stealth; it was time for infiltration. He'd already henge'd into a plain chuunin, ( _lord_ knows how many there are,) dressed in semi-casual clothes. He knew it'd be suspicious to keep completely silent, so he gave polite greetings to the staff of the hokage tower, sure that they wouldn't remember him in the sea of other plain faces they encounter everyday.

Despite the mostly militaristic purpose of the building, the layout was far simpler than that of the Nara clan compound. Sure, there were twists and turns like anywhere else with the occasional ANBU skirting the shadows or in the walls, but there weren't as many security measures, dead ends or codes designed to confuse unwanted inhabitants or intruders.

Taking more caution than he would if he were on an infiltration mission in the Land of Stone, he took every private corner as an opportunity to slightly alter his henge, keeping it everchanging and only requiring a low chakra output.

Though he didn't know the exact location of the civilian archives, he _did_ know where the ninja files were, and was sure that they would at least be in the same wing for conveniency's sake.

When he got to the desired place, he tried his best to look like he knew what he was doing and was supposed to be here. There was absolutely no way he'd go into the shinobi archives though. On the likely possibility that he was caught, doing so would only activate alarms and incriminate him further for treason.

The walls that he knew were painted a perfect coat, (courtesy of a few genin teams, no doubt,) were tinted an eery yellow by the dim overhead lights. And just as he thought, there were a few doors lining the hall, marked only by numbers. Though it was unwise to go in and simply try one knob after another, was there any other option? Naturally there were no blueprints to study beforehand, and any that _might_ have been made public no doubt had many rooms unmarked.

Conscious of how much time had passed, Shikamaru continued on his mission. One revealed itself to be a storage room, another was a room devoid of anything but empty shelves. In a coin toss between the two that he was marginally sure weren't the shinobi archives, he opened the second to last one, (which happened to be on a left.)

It was... nothing, actually. The room looked much more spacious than it was with the distinct lack of objects, and he was instantly suspicious. Why would there be a completely empty room in a bureaucratic building? Genjutsu...?

Unsure if he was supposed to be doing this, he made a ram sign and fluctuated his chakra once in time with a "Kai."

Almost hesitantly, the genjutsu slowly receded from the room. Like he though, it wasn't as large when it had decorations, and decorated it was. On the far wall, immediately visible from the entrance was a colored picture of the yondaime embracing a pregnant red-haired woman, both looking to the camera with wide smiles that spoke of life and energy.

The floor was cluttered with a bassinet, children's toys, small infant clothing and random equipment he knew was for child rearing. In all its dusty glory, he felt he'd intruded on an incredibly private thing.

The placement of everything made him know that it was extremely careless and haphazard, but the sight of this forgotten childhood was chilling in its haunting loneliness. Now that he thought of it, who was that woman?

In the history books he'd skimmed through as a child, there was no mention of the yondaime taking a wife, let alone having a child. It was suspicious, especially since this secret was so poorly kept. _What else was hidden in plain sight like this room?_

Though now he certainly was curious, he was neither foolish nor suicidal. He replaced the genjutsu he'd broken with one he hoped would be slightly stronger and would remain undetected, then stepped back into the hallway.

At least now he was sure that the last door was what he was looking for.

* * *

 **I'm getting really fed up with my writing; can't wait to finish this so I can revise and fix all those plot holes! And sorry that I'm just... meandering with the plot. I did say it would end up being long, and this is only my third long piece of fiction.**

 **This is another transitional chapter for the next one that will turn out... interesting. I do plan to continue to chapter 10 soon, but I have both a clusterfuck with work management and quarter 3 ending in school. My spring break will primarily be homework catch-up time, but I hope to progress soon!**

 **I little tidbit I know you guys are dying to know: Kurama doesn't really become relevant until later in the story, if ever. And guys, lemme tell you a secret I just realized: sage mode is irrelevant to Aoime! I accidentally made him kind of op?**

 **Started: 2/25/2019**

 **Completed: 3/22/2019 (after much inactivity)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10, y'all! WHOO!!!**

 **(FFN'S BEING A BITCH RN)**

The room looked fairly nondescript with its piles, cabinets, and shelves of papers. Rows upon rows of shelves leading deeper into the room, only lit by rows of naked bulbs hanging down from the rafters. Of course there was a system of organization in place, but it was hard to tell at first glance with papers stacked haphazardly atop every flat surface.

Shikamaru groaned internallybut started searching for the blank papers used for proof of citizenship.

Logically, they had to be somewhere obvious and of easy access, right? There were so many prospective citizens when it came to a hidden village that you'd think the paper-ninjaswould want to conserve as much effort as possible. And _that_ would limit his possibilities to somewhere near the entrance he was still standing at.

The main problem concerned the towering stacks that seemed to tremble at the very hint of a breeze. Tall, uneven, and _highly_ structurally unsound. It would take a massive amount of effort to sort through all the piles that just surrounded the _door_

But instead of waiting around to get caught, he had to start somewhere.

Taking out a spool of some of his thicker ninja wire, he started unraveling it, getting as much length as possible. He threw the spool itself up and over the overhead rafter holding the lights, using a small bit of shadow manipulation to pull the loose wire _underneath_ the stack. Once pulled out, he had to carefully bring it up to the rafter to join the other end, then wrapped the spool around the wood once before tying it off.

Now that he had the approximate length of wire calculated, he pulled more wire from the spool, doubling it once and leaving an extra half-meter to tie off with and to span the lengthier side of the papers before using a kunai to cut it.

He repeated the process once more, then brought the two sides to meet the tie he made earlier, so that all four sides were equally supported by the wires and would be cradled into position instead of falling. Though the process itself was intensely nerve-racking, only about a minute and a half had passed.

With his failsafe implemented, Shikamaru was now free to gently rifle through the papers with gloved hands; (the thickness made it slightly more difficult, but he was accustomed to it after using thin wire so much.) Thankfully they were oriented in the same general direction, though there was the occasional upside-down paper to decipher.

With this simple though time-consuming method, he found no citizenship papers, but an immigrant test he hadn't been aware existed with several trick questions designed to root out spies.

Eventually, one pile turned to two, two to three, and he finally gave up. The Nara was unwilling to continue on through the stacks, seeing as he'd only seen newly approved citizen papers, those damned tests, post-it notes to coworkers regarding anything from suspicions to details for a dinner date or random unlabeled passwords.

In conclusion, these stacks were useless to him, and it would be best for him to remove his wires before he succumbs to the urge to shred through the stack like a body. It wouldn't be nearly as satisfying, but it was necessary for him to remain undetected.

So now it was time to rifle through the cabinets. Fun.

As expected, these too were filled to the brim and unable to close fully. Though to his _immense_ relief, there were fewer cabinets than there were stacks, and they seemed slightly more organized.

He flipped through file after file, enough to thoroughly inform him that a future as a paper-pusher was even more troublesome than being a field-shinobi.

Even after the bold titles started to blur together, he still searched. And then-- he found it.

The stack of the identification papers was held together with a large clip, bulging from its resident manilla folder. He refrained from crying, but it was a very near thing. God, the satisfaction he got from seeing just a stack of _papers_ was ridiculous but completely warranted in his opinion.

He looked up at the clock ticking above the doorway, gauging how much time he had left, and promptly hissed.

 _Shit! Seven minutes left._ Just seven minutes before the guards changed and did a customary sweep of the building.

He whipped out the pencil he'd left in his pouch _just for this purpose_ , and started speeding through the questions, mind racing with both tension and the huge flow of sensory input he forced himself to absorb at once. In the time it would take another to simply _read_ the stimulus, he'd already had three questions answered. First, the multiple choice, taking account the total number of questions, calculating the ratio necessary for acceptance, then skillfully creating patterns to both look randomized and avoid the "trick" questions.

Moving on to the simple short answer questions, he sped through them with the messiest handwriting he could create without consciously focusing on it.

He made spelling errors, he made slight mistakes with dates, and he made _sure_ to use incorrect grammar whenever he could think to. By the end of the grueling six minutes and 14 seconds, he was proud to say that the mediocrity of this test (that was still in the range of passing) was the best he'd done, even in his school career.

Quickly attaching the photo he'd brought with a paperclip, he put the test near the top of one of the nearby stacks and soundlessly closed the door before speeding away from the area as fast as he could while still being discreet.

Taking the same twists and turns he'd mentally mapped out to the most direct exit, he slowed and started the painstaking process of getting out of the building using henge and subterfuge. Though the mission was not yet over, it was a massive relief to no longer have the stress of that worry.

-LINE BREAK-

"So... in all the 15 years since the Kyuubi attack, you've heard nothing of its whereabouts?" It was stated as a rhetorical question in a dangerous tone, making the shinobi before him kneel in silence, bodies tense and unnerved.

"It seems the roots of Konoha are weakening. Tell me, what good are you if you can't support Konoha?" His tone remained deceptively light, contrasting the threatening edge of his words. The small group of masked shinobi nearly shivered, but knew the repercussions would be far worse if they showed any emotion-- _especially_ fear.

They were still in a tense moment of silence, before the man dismissed them with a single look, one that said he was likely to lose his temper if they stayed any longer.

They fled in a synchronized shunshin, leaving the man to his own company in the dimly lit office. With no one left to bear witness to his humiliating frustrations, he was almost tempted to vent. He went back behind his large wooden desk and sat in the plush desk chair that kept him mostly comfortable in his official duties.

Danzo had never stopped thinking of that night: of the Kyuubi appearing on the outskirts of the village. No doubt something had gone wrong with the Uzumaki's birthing.Those damned Uchihas had done something, he was sure of it. Despite his intense resentment towards Minato, it grated him that he knew he was too skilled in fuuinjutsu for that to happen with no meddling. His bias was only slightly undermined by the grudging respect he had for Minato's skills in the arts of sealing, but even he knew there should have been little chance of failure. _(He knew the Yondaime was unfit for such responsibility, knew he'd have been better than that blasted Namikaze.)_

Danzo had also participated in that particularly bloody battle. He'd fought, had been crippled and then the creature'd been whisked away by the Yellow Flash. No one bore witness to the Yondaime's final encounter with the beast. All he knew was that the fox was gone and the Yondaime was dead. _Dead_ , and Danzo was still not Hokage.

Unlike the sheep that were Konoha's citizens, _he_ knew that it was impossible to kill a tailed beast. The tales had said the beasts were purely constructs of chakra, and chakra could never be destroyed; only used, dispersed, or sealed.

Logically, it should have reformed by now and be terrorizing the countryside, but it wasn't. That meant one thing and one thing only: it'd been sealed.

While Kusagakure had recently risen from the woodwork, it's been confirmed to serve as the snake's base.; and seeing as there were no hidden villages bragging about possessing the _Kyuubi_ , the strongest of the bijuu, it couldn't be anywhere but in Konoha.

It was then that something clicked: there was a jinchuuriki in Konoha. Untrained, unaware, and unknowingly doing a huge disservice to the village. Had Sarutobi known? _Had that damn monkey pulled one over on him?!_

There was no way of knowing at this point; the man was dead. And since he'd met his _untimely demise_ at the hands of his rogue student, that meant that Tsunade was also unaware.

A rare grin overtook his face, looking like that of a cat who'd caught the canary, and its whole nest of eggs, too.

Though it was unfortunate he'd wasted so many resources over the years, at least he now knew what he was looking for, and the search for that would be localized. He called for another squad of Root members through a seal similar to the one connecting the Hokage to the ANBU black ops, and waited. Not for long, mind you, for all his successfully trained and integrated members knew he was not a man to keep waiting.

Just as he'd predicted, they shunshinned and took to kneeling, awaiting his command. He stood from his chair, hand clenching around the cane he carried around to convince others of his frailty.

Surveying the best shinobi he had in espionage, he gave his orders.

"The search for the Nine-Tailed Fox will continue, but focus only within the village. The target's physical attributes are unknown, save for the existence of abnormally large chakra reserves. The target's age will be anywhere from 15 to 25 years old," he said. "Search the archives, comb the red light district, and absolutely _do_ _not_ alert either the Hokage or her forces. Dismissed."

Just like the squad before them, they were quick to shunshin away, leaving the old man to his office and various plots. But Danzo was proud of the day's work, proud to be one step ahead of the enemy, (be that the Akatsuki organization or Konoha's hokage.)

There was war on the horizon, and the Kyuubi was an essential variable in Konoha's triumph.

\--ANOTHER LINE BREAK BECAUSE I NEED A HIGHER WORD COUNT--

"What's the point of assigning us Konoha if there's no jinchuuriki to hunt? After that invasion of Kusa and Suna, they're all easy pickings. I won't even have to use my blade against these tree-huggers!"

"Hn. Konoha may be less of a threat, but you know the consequence of defying Lord Pein." The blue-skinned man beside him shivered at the memory of a grunt trying to defect. It hadn't been pretty.

"Okay, fine. But what are we supposed to tell him when he asks for a report? I bet this was just a staged mission to punish us in the end."

"Focus, Kisame." The large blue-skinned man beside him grumbled under his breath, and Itachi pretended not to hear the rude words pointed at both him and their Lord.

They two missing-nin were disguised in their Akatsuki uniform and a wide straw hat, approaching Konoha at a civilian's pace so as to not alert the sentries of their abilities. Lord Pein had begun mobilizing members of the upper echelon of Akatsuki, pairing them to ensure maximum efficiency and increased chances of survival. Itachi and Kisame were just one of those pairs.

Though they were unsure of the endgame, they each had their mission: bring in the jinchuurikis, _alive_.

And so, they were preparing to infiltrate his old home village to at least gather some intel, regardless of its relevance to the actual sacrifice. _(He privately agreed with Kisame. They'd not heard of hide nor hair of the jinchuuriki or the tailed-beast's whereabouts, and thus expected nothing to turn up from their investigation.)_

The long dusty road they'd traversed for far too long suddenly gave way to a great treeline, something comforting in its sheltered familiarity, but also incredibly off-putting. There were too many places to hide, too many opportunities for an ambush. The forest was far from his home after what he'd done all those years ago, and the forest as a whole seemed to exude a slight killing intent to reinforce that notion.

It was no longer his home, but that was alright. He had a mission to complete, and _nothing would stand in his way--_

"Shit, where am I supposed to put Samehada if I'm posing as a civvie?!"

For once, his partner brought up a relatively good point.

 **(I HATE MY LIFE)**

 **There; is that enough action for ya? But FINALLY, PLOT PROGRESSION. Though there will be more fluff eventually, don't you worry.**

 **And no, some of Danzo's POV doesn't make a huge amount of sense, does it? That's because 1) he's crazy, and 2) Naruto was assumed to be dead, even if they never found the body. That's why the primary suspect doesn't have red hair.**

 **And can I just clarify: I didn't take any inspiration from Tarzan, nor is it intended to be similar. In truth, I've seen the movie maybe 4 times, and I was less than impressed with it. Same goes for The Jungle Book, (though that one was marginally better.) Sorry, but it's kind of irritating to see people make connections or references instead of enjoying the book itself, and it feels like they're discrediting the effort I put into publishing.**

 **(Also: why is FFN giving me so much trouble rn?!)**

 **Started 4/15**

 **Completed 4/26**


	11. Chapter 11

**My word count makes me feel like a big kid.**

* * *

 _He woke up alone. The alpha was gone, leaving only him and her subordinates behind on that cold grey morning in their den._

 _If he were a normal child, he would have cried for his mother, but she was a howler and had no name, nor would she accept such a frivolous thing._

 _The cold truth sunk in: if she wasn't here with the pack, she was dead. He howled for her, missing her warmth and protection already._

 _He didn't look to his litter mates for help; they wouldn't even if he had._

 _With the absence of their alpha, survival was up to them. It was a cruel world in the wilderness of the forest, and they would not sabotage their already slim chances by showing compassion to their less able brother, the omega._

 _They left him crying, so very alone, and already beginning to feel the first stirrings of hunger._

 _Those desperate weeks made up one of the lowest points of his short life until he realized his abilities. He gained a new mother in the tree he assisted in growing and sheltered him to show its gratitude, and the trees whispered of ways the clawless hunted._

 _Ways to survive._

 _But it was still too cold..._

Aoime woke like he was resurfacing from a pool of water, with a quiet gasp and muddled awareness. He was disoriented by the throbbing of the chakra of forest life, small but numerous as they were. His skin was clammy with a cold sweat, furs strewed about from the thrashing he'd probably done in his sleep.

It felt like he hadn't been home in forever, but he didn't like thinking of that side of his life. Kill or be killed, loved ones dying with no warning, to wake up and realize that while they _should_ be there, they're not. She was gone.

Granted, the howler had been gone for many years; she'd died when he was seven after all. He'd been so young compared to his fully developed litter-mates, a People, not a howler. _'So incapable...,'_ he thought bitterly.

He might have almost blamed them at the moment when they left him for dead, pseudo-exiling him from the pack; he didn't know. He liked to think that he understood their reasons and didn't begrudge their actions, but it didn't make the abandonment any less painful. How shameful it was to be removed from the pack. Even if he asked to join one as he is now, he would be rejected on the grounds of that single past experience.

Shikamaru came to mind. He was no litter-mate, but he liked to think they'd started their own little pack. He blushed at that thought. Obviously, he was the alpha, and he was happy to have the raven-haired boy as his beta. _'Or mate?'_ He quickly threw that thought away. Shika was another boy. They wouldn't be able to further the pack if they mated. _'Shikamaru doesn't like me like that anyways...'_

It was best not to think of his friend that way. (What even was a friend, anyway? A pack was family, did that mean a friend was someone or something he did not wish to kill? That was incredibly impersonal. Was it actually a potential mate? He was so confused!)

Though he doubted that Shikamaru would want to bear a litter for him, even if he could. The Nara boy often said just about anything was "troublesome," (except Aoime, of course,) and he didn't want to burden him more with "troublesome" things.

So it was best to not think of it at all.

Now sticky with a layer of cooled, drying sweat, he got up to gather the pelts that needed a good cleaning, ignoring the various objects strewn about his dirt floor. A while ago, he'd grown some small shelves out of thick protruding roots to house a few of the objects Shika had gifted him, but even those could not accommodate the full extent of his growing collection.

Some books and scrolls were clustered in a small pile near the back of the den, polished rocks he'd taken a liking to lining the roughly shaped shelves, and various miscellaneous items Shika had used to start acclimating him to The People's culture.

So many memories, and in such a short amount of time, too. It was confusing how much he valued Shikamaru, compared to the home he'd had for almost half his life.

And now Shikamaru wanted him to leave it.

Maybe that wasn't what he'd said exactly, but that's what he'd meant. He wasn't stupid, just ignorant of the complexities of The People's culture. Even now, despite Shika's best efforts, he felt he didn't belong in The Village. He belonged in The Forest.

He didn't want to think of that either. Maybe he could visit King while he was at the river. After all, it wasn't often that King was elsewhere.

Gathering his few pelts within the largest of the bunch, he started on a slow trot through the trees.

It felt immensely calming to just be. To be walking among the trees, absentmindedly picking up whatever small bits of food he passed by. He hadn't been aware that he'd been tense those last few weeks, but Shika's stress must have unconsciously been projected to him.

The People brought him so much trouble, even without them trying to. He remembered that one time years ago when he didn't have such a good hold on his abilities. They'd been trying to build a wall, _(they'd called it a dam, hadn't they.)_

He'd stayed hidden, not fully understanding the conversations he'd overheard. He hadn't been as good with The People's language back then, having not met Shikamaru or had the time to visit King often.

From what he'd gleaned, they wanted to use the water for the village, but they'd have to divert the river to build a "reservoir." (It was only later he realized they'd wanted to make a lake, but why did they need a new word for something like that?) He'd nearly given himself away quite a few times but managed on his own from the shadows of the foliage.

Honestly, they'd been so complacent, less aware of danger than the hoofed ones he was so fond of. ( _Deer_ , Shika's voice corrected. He was so nit-picky with correcting Aoime's language.)

With their intense unawareness aiding in his endeavors, he made short work of ruining all progress they'd made by the time they came the next morning. He kicked out loose planks, grew small vines and shrubs in the cog-work of the machinery, and made the remaining planks grow tree trunks, roots digging deep into the ground as the wood regained a new sort of life and sentience.

He worked quickly and silently, refusing to ask any animals of help. There was a chance that he'd be discovered in his sabotage, and they were less able than him if the plan went sideways.

And despite the continuous rebuilding of The People, he was persistent. For every night they went home, a day's work would be undone. Of course, they had hired a small group of People more capable than them after the first few days, but they were young and sheltered, no match for Aoime's unique skills.

And he had triumphed. It had taken almost a full moon, but they could not compare to the havoc he had wreaked.

He laughed in remembrance; of course they would run away with their tail tucked between their legs. It was foolish of them to try to take what was not theirs to sate their greed, and no one would ever think that he was the culprit.

 _(Though if there was now a rumor of the Shodaime's ghost haunting the forest discouraging further business endeavors, who was Aoime to stop the chaos he'd somewhat unwittingly caused?)_

* * *

 **To clarify: this is not an omegaverse fic; I was just using terms of hierarchy within wolf packs. And in regards to feels development, Aoime's more animalistic and has never grown to think such a lengthy courtship is normal in humans because he's never experienced societal expectations.**

 **And to reiterate for the nth time: THIS IS NOT A NSFW FIC. THIS IS (not too strictly) SHOUNEN-AI. This is romance so there WILL be sexual themes, but THERE WILL BE NO ACTUAL SEX OR SEXUAL ACTS BEYOND KISSING. For the sequel, we'll see, but until then, stfu and read my damn A/Ns!**

 **I'll be starting the next chapter immediately; hopefully I have enough time around work...**


	12. Chapter 12

**im ded from work**

* * *

It had been far too long since Aoime had visited King. Having proclaimed him to be his father, it made him feel a bit guilty, and realize that despite the excuses of stress and socializing, he still should have visited at least once or twice.

Thus, he was nearly apprehensive of when he would arrive at the river, (and his internal compass told him it would be too soon for his liking.)

Nevertheless, he didn't dawdle when he saw the tree break.

As always, the shoreline was littered with animals, both large and small, all resting peacefully. There were a few daring individuals assisting in grooming, or exchanging small gifts of nuts or fruits. And at the center of it all, was King. The clouds always seemed to break apart to illuminate him in the sun's rays, an ethereal sight when most of his scales reflected gold or copper.

A few small birds were perched on his antlers, and he looked down to see a shoal of fish swimming under his resting form.

It looked to be a hunter's dream, but violence was absolutely forbidden, and you'd do well to remember that or suffer the point of a horn. King was overall very gentle, not even taking the chance of harming a single blade of grass; but he also had a very rigid moral code as The Forest's protector.

And while this picturesque scene might have captivated others, Aoime was used to it by now. Not to say that it was any less beautiful, but there was nothing stopping him from continuing on his own business, going to the river as he'd intended.

While he could _feel_ the stares of King and his subjects, he squatted down and began the process of washing his pelts.

One had to be a bit delicate in their handling, as the base of it was simply dried skin. (He'd, unfortunately, learned _that_ through trial and error, and lost a few good skins because of his carelessness.)

The process was a little slow going with how large they were combined from his hands shaking from nervousness, but there wasn't much for him to do other than let the water run its course and gently scrub the fur to loosen any dirt or grime. Slowly, one after the other, he made his way through his little pile, gently hanging them on the lower branches of various trees to dry. Then he set about washing himself.

This was much easier, (if colder,) than caring for his pelts. At least _his_ skin wasn't constantly at risk of tearing. His favorite part was always washing his hair, by diving under the water and scrubbing at the light strands.

Most times he would keep his eyes open and just enjoy the lives of the fish.

There would always be the occasional bout of envy at the fluid movements of those swarms of fish, how easily they seem to move through the currents without a care in the world. But then he remembers when he tried to imitate them before he could simply walk upon the water, and that swimming was even more taxing than running. Then he was perfectly content with swinging through the canopy. Didn't mean he didn't sometimes swim for the sake of swimming or to cool off, just that he enjoyed his way of life as it was.

And that's okay, isn't it? To have no desire for more than what you have? It's not a common behavior he's seen thus far in The People, but it's also always been them and him. He'd always been different.

Thinking of it this way made him more apprehensive of Shikamaru's plans, and confused him even more. He wanted to stay with his closest friend but didn't want to leave his forest. And being constantly surrounded by People sounded unpleasant, their presence and customs suffocating.

Maybe he should talk to Father about this? He'd always been the wisest, always willing to lead him to a new path of thought and teach him new things.

So he did just that. Rather than lying in the sun to dry off, he focused chakra to his hands, pulled himself out of the water, then focused the energy to his feet to stay atop the river. Dripping bullets the whole way, he plodded to the spot King had claimed since before he could fathom and promptly sat down to lean against his father.

They sat in silence for a few calm moments, before Aoime spoke up.

 _'I apologize for not visiting before now.'_ King chuckled at the unique tone: mostly repentant, but still said like he'd swallowed a bad lemon.

 _'You had much to think of, and even more to learn. There is no need to apologize for a small absence from the river. After all, you came back, yes?'_ The blond's mouth quirked at the odd bit of logic but accepted the reasoning of a timeless being nonetheless.

 _'You're right, I learned so much.'_ He bit back the thought of _but is it enough?_ He wouldn't burden his father with his doubts, wouldn't sour this calm peacefulness that surrounded them. _'Did you know that the female People wear colorful layers of clothes to attract the **males**? It's completely backward! And it didn't really seem like those courtships ever went well..._

 _'And I guess they trade to get what they want or need. Instead of going hunting, they just have someone else do it for them, then give something in return for the work!'_ He never really understood why they couldn't just do it themselves, but maybe they were just incapable with all those fabrics slowing them down.

He could've said more, let the time flow by as he regaled King with the horrible eccentricities that came from society. But lately, he'd been feeling...like he was running out of time, if that made sense.

 _'It seems that you've been exploring,'_ King said gently, sensing the boy's hesitance in continuing. He didn't reply, so King took that as a sign that Aoime was done with that thread of conversation. _'Perhaps it is time to step further out of your comfort zone._

 _'Soon, you will be officially registered as a citizen of The Village, and you've established yourself as a friend of that boy Shikamaru. Why not make more friends? You never had many here in The Forest.'_

 _'I've had plenty!'_ the blond protested. _'I've had you, and my tree, and the hoofed ones who let me play with them sometimes. I even had the howlers!'_ None like Shikamaru, but he wouldn't open that can of worms right now.

King took these claims in stride, calmly continuing as if he'd read his mind.

 _'Even so, there is a limit to the level of closeness you can achieve with someone unlike you. I'm sure Shikamaru can introduce you to his other friends, and you can learn to enjoy what all The Village has to offer.'_

 _'But The Village doesn't have you!'_ By now, tears were threatening to gather in Aoime's eyes. King heaved a sigh, having sensed they'd reached the crux of the issue.

 _'You've known that there would come a time where our paths must part.'_ And he had known, probably since he'd been ousted from the pack all those years ago. Known that he didn't quite belong and that nothing good ever lasts forever.

 _'That time is not now,'_ King soothed, aware of his distress. _'Not now, but soon.'_

"That doesn't make it better!" Tears were flowing and his cry had startled the few small birds from their perch on his father's antlers. He couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it, panicked as he was. "You've always been my father, and if I can't see you by being a part of The Village, then I don't want to be there!"

King looked at him lovingly, though disapproval shone clearly in his eye.

 _'You know that's untrue. You have already experienced what The Village has to offer; already made connections and nurtured a small love for Konoha. You are grown, and I feel that you are ready.'_ Well, no one had asked if _he_ thought he was ready, but there was no arguing with The King.

He stewed in silence, buried in thoughts of _"why me, why now."_ He couldn't stop the tears of frustration, so they tracked down his reddened face to plop in the water, swept away by the current. When he had calmed somewhat, the sun was nearly touching the tips of the trees, and his furs had surely dried by now.

"Why would you leave me?"

King seemed to deliberate for a moment but eventually gave a slow reply: _'I would not normally if it were avoidable. I would not want to, but everything is inevitable.'_ In that sentence, he sounded so tired; truly the age of the centuries he'd lived through. And that alone was more frightening than any ominous premonition The King could have given him.

Soon, his father, the aged dragon he was, _would die._ This revelation shocked him, having never thought that his father, having lived since the beginning of chakra, even _could_ die.

And it was terrifying thinking that there was something in this world that could kill such a powerful being.

His dilemma of whether he should join The People in their village seemed so insignificant now, his complicated thoughts pointless in the face of this unknown _thing_ that was to kill his father in the near future.

 _'I know you came here to ask for another opinion, and I say it now: go, and prepare yourself. This forest needs more than my protection, and I fear The People do as well._

 _'You are my son. Do as I know you do best: protect. That is all you must do.'_

* * *

 **Hi, I hate my writing style. Btw, I quit my job, so I may or may not have enough time to update a few chapters come August. Also please comment; comments give me life and motivation, (with the added bonus of temporarily clearing my depression!)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thinking I may have to reread what I've written... it's been so long since part 1.**

* * *

It had been a noticeably longer time since he'd last seen Shika, longer even than that time before he ventured into The Village recklessly. (He never did get his skins and beads back; hopefully, they were still hidden in that alleyway. If not, he could always dry some more clay beads. He had more than enough "rope" to spare to make more necklaces, but that wasn't important.)

What was _important_ was that he kind of missed Shikamaru. He was the best playmate, always willing to play his games and show him around.

It used to be so easy, just going day by day doing nothing but living and breathing with The Forest. Now he got bored far too easily, and it didn't help that Shika had other things to do. (He'd mentioned "missions" once or twice, yeah?)

Boredom, he found, was very dangerous. It made him do stupid things like go back to The Village despite clearly remembering what happened last time. But maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad. After all, now he knew what to expect; (not to mention he now knew of the existence of that stand selling "ramen.")

Yeah! He'd just drop by for a quick look; he could handle it.

* * *

He'd briefly remembered of the trade he'd done to get that bowl of ramen, so his adventure had been slightly delayed by his gathering of "wide caps" as he liked to call them, mushrooms to The People of Ichiraku Ramen.

So now, once again, he stood before a loosely guarded section of the wooden wall.

Shika had said he'd make it so it was okay for him to be in The Village, but that didn't mean he knew what to do at the open section where people wrote or recited information he wouldn't know. He knew that was where he should normally go, but he'd seen a few People swathed in more layers than necessary be taken away by People with more chakra, wearing vests like Shika's. He didn't know where they went, but he didn't want to end up like them.

Thus, he decided he'd just go in like how he did last time.

Gently parting the bits of latent chakra still present in the wood, (he shivered at how cold and _dead_ they were,) he once more used the energy to let him through to the other side. He was thankful that he hadn't been caught, given that the bright attire he'd donned from last time was much more conspicuous than his natural skins would ever be.

Now it was just a matter of trying not to attract attention and also finding the shrine of ramen. (Somehow he suspected the latter would be easier, regardless of him not knowing its precise location...) He figured it would probably be best to recreate how he found Ichiraku last time, (minus that terrifying feeling of being chased prey.) That is, just follow the nose.

The smells were just as pungent as they were last time, but at least he knew what he was trying to pick out from the cloud of unnatural perfumes. Thankfully, the smell of good food was easy to differentiate from the vaguely flowery scents the women liked so much.

Eyes drooping half-mast, he drooled at the thought of that large bowl that was just _waiting_ for him to eat it. Maybe he'll try a different type this time?

There were more places to sit this time, no feeling of swarming People pushing at his back. Maybe it was the time of day? Did that matter to them? Oh well, that just means fewer things to distract from his ramen.

Plopping down on the furthermost stool, he eagerly unloaded the many pockets of wide caps he'd manage to find. Surely this would be enough in place of those circles of "ryo."

"Ayame! I came again!" Her name was Ayame, wasn't it? He only heard it maybe once or twice, but he really hoped he didn't screw it up. (Names were very important, he'd come to learn.)

"Coming! Welcome to Ichiraku Ramen, what can I- oh, it's you!" It took her a minute to fight through her autopilot introduction and actually recognize the customer. "I wasn't sure if you would ever come back, you were gone so long!"

"Of course I came back! How can't I; the ramen is so good!"

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. We used those mushrooms you gave us to make a limited-time specialty dish, and it was a hit!" Aoime didn't think that he'd ever seen the wide caps actually hit someone, nor did he think it would be a good thing, but it _must've_ been a good thing if Ayame was so happy about it.

"I have more here," he said, gesturing to the small mountain of mushrooms gathered on the counter. It was nearly to his chin, and Ayame wondered how on Earth she had missed that.

"Wow, so many! I hope this'll last us longer. Here, why don't I just-" She rummaged around somewhere deeper into the stand and retrieved a small piece of red cardstock paper and a pen. Slapping on some brand stickers to make it look less suspicious, she quickly wrote something and handed it to the blond.

"'Free ramen deal for The Mushroom Man...?'"

"I didn't know your name, so I went with that," she said a tad sheepishly. "If you want, you can write your name at the bottom." He thought that would be better, but he didn't actually know how to write his name.

"My name is Aoime."

"...Aoime? Just like 'blue eyes'?"

"I guess..." It did make sense that Shika would name him after one of his most defining traits.

"Well, at least your name relates to you in some way," she hedged. "Honestly, irises aren't even my favorite flower."

"Iris?"

"It's one of the meanings of my name. My hair's not even purple, yet mom and dad named me after that flower." It was clear she was trying to cheer him up for whatever reason, but it seemed to work. He was also having fun learning more about the language, little sayings or double meanings that went over his head and Shikamaru mostly avoided so as to not confuse him.

It just so happened that at that moment, his stomach decided to growl quite loudly, interrupting their awkward conversation.

"Ah, I almost forgot about that! Why don't I just take those mushrooms and make you a bowl of the specialty ramen? You'll be the first to taste its comeback, even before I post the advertisement!" She hurriedly scooped up the pile of fungi into her apron, trying not to lose any before dumping them into a basin off to the side.

And it wasn't long before she had a hot bowl of steaming ramen placed before him, the large slices of mushroom cooked golden, adorned with fresh green onion and two perfect halves of a soft-boiled egg. With it, she gave him a small package of those small sticks of wood only mostly cut individually.

"Here ya go! Enjoy your ramen while I post the banner." _And enjoy he did._

He loved that this ramen, while tasting different, was still just as heavenly. He'd rarely ever eaten the wide-caps, but they tasted so delicious when cooked in ramen! He was convinced that just about anything could taste good as long as it was ramen.

Faster than he would like, he devoured the bowl like a starving howler in winter. (Well, it was nearing the end of winter, but that's not the point.)

By the time Ayame came back to serve the few customers coming in, he'd already drunk all the broth and was busy picking out the last remnants of the dish. He would've asked for more had he not noticed the sudden influx in customers, probably lured in by the smell and promised "special" item. (After all, anything was better if it was special.)

"Ah, thanks for the ramen, Ayame! I'll come again later, believe it!" Leaving the empty bowl to Ayame, he spun out of the stool and pushed his way out of the crowd.

Looking back, he saw the true size of the mob, civilians and ninja alike flocking to the small stand. There were even People hopping off the roofs and climbing down the walls in an attempt to get at the front. A shiver ran down his spine. That was almost as terrifying as a swarm of angry hornets.

As he walked away from the chaos he had inspired, he made sure that little card of paper was safely tucked away and zipped into a pocket.

Now that he was heading away from the crowded stand, he was starting to cool off. He didn't understand why his heart would pick up speed and he'd feel suffocated surrounded by too many People, but he definitely didn't want a repeat of what happened, (especially with Shika not around.)

So, still a bit too hot around the neck, Aoime decided to cool off maybe somewhere with less dead trees, stone, and People, and more _live_ trees.

* * *

He didn't actually know where he was, but when did he ever, really? He did know he was still inside The Village, but these trees were curious, unfamiliar.

The clearing was small and grassy, a tiny pond at the side that was probably too small to actually support any life. The land was formed unnaturally, the earth carved in some places and scorched in others. He guessed this was where people fought, (maybe _this_ was where they fought for land rights?)

Well, whatever. He went off to lay on a small knoll cushioned by grass that had grown over the mound of earth. It was settled at the edge, slightly shaded by the reaching branches of the still-growing trees.

Settled in the shade, he folded his arms behind his head for more support and calmed down using Shikamaru's favorite pastime: cloud watching. The simple act of visualizing shapes or animals in the clouds took his mind off his surroundings, (even though it also made him remember the many times he'd done the same with Shika and they laughed together. He ignored the sense of longing that seemed to increase when he thought more of his friend.)

He wondered where Shikamaru had gone, why he hadn't warned him beforehand. There were many things about Shikamaru and his Village that he still didn't understand, and probably never will, no matter how much he's learned.

Engrossed as he was, he didn't notice a team of three ninjas enter his temporary sanctuary. At least, not until they started talking.

Unaware of his presence, they took up what was presumably their combat practice.

"Oh, come on, Hinata! How are we supposed to get better if we don't do anything different?!"

"I am inclined to agree with Kiba. Why? Because challenge breeds growth and power."

"But K-Kiba, I'm still not too good at medic techniques. What if you get hurt badly?"

"Ah?! Why are you assuming _I'll_ get hurt, and not Shino?!"

"It's only logical. After all, you are almost as reckless as you were as a genin."

"Say that again! Akamaru and I have grown loads! Watch, I won't get a single injury besides superficial cuts and bruises."

"Improbable."

"I-if you want to fight that badly, let's spar together?"

"See, now you're talkin', Hinata! Let's go, Akamaru! _Four Legs Technique! Beast Mimicry!"_

The sounds of some battle started behind him, and Aoime wondered if it was rude to interrupt. While he wanted to keep his temporary territory to himself, he also was hesitant to disrupt any fight. After all, it wasn't like he was competing for anything like spoils.

"Oi; get your bugs off me!"

"Please refrain from killing my bugs."

"They only lived for a couple of hours!"

"Kiba, this is j-j-just training!"

"Not you too, Hinata! You _know_ my taijutsu isn't as good as your guys'!"

"Then I suggest you use this session to get better."

"Agh!"

...But they were so _noisy._ It wouldn't be too bad to just tell them to go to another clearing of trees, right? Or better yet, _he_ could just move! (Though he'd rather he didn't, because moving when he was there first just rankled him.)

 _"Eight Trigrams: Thirty-Two Palms."_

"Wa-Hinata! _KEEP YOUR **HANDS** AWAY FROM ME!"_

"It is imperative for a good shinobi to be able to dodge effectively."

 _"SHUT UP, SHINO! YOU'RE NOT THE ONE BEING TAG-TEAMED!"_

As he knew Shikamaru would say, this is too troublesome. At this point, he'd rather move himself and the whole mound while he was at it.

"Take this! Akamaru, _Fang Passing Fang!"_

As he was getting up to quietly leave, he noticed the one that was always shouting spiraling at high speeds, accompanied by a twin formation. The loud one seemed to be going after the other male, (Shino, was it?) but was dodged? Or maybe not, because he seemed to pass right through the People, little bugs being let off as they went to reform the figure.

It was an interesting technique, one he'd never seen before. Though kind of dangerous, 'cause they couldn't seem to control it very well. For example, when they were able to go through the People of bugs, one of the formations continued on their path of destruction towards-

 _TOWARDS HIM?!_

"WAIT, KIBA, THERE'S A PERSON-"

 _Not the trees, not the trees!_ In a split-second, Aoime had willed an interlocked fence of thick wood he hoped could stop the _thing_ that was coming closer and closer, making a curving wall protecting him and the trees behind him.

"Wha- _gah!"_ Their fight seemed to have lost its importance in the face of a potential civilian casualty, and the two others stood and stared as the People who smelled vaguely of howler was forced to stop his rotation when his face met the sturdy wood. It seems that he'd lost consciousness upon impact. He seemed unnaturally pale and was bleeding from the nose and head, and the blond _swore_ he could see something like a soul struggling to head skyward.

The brief moment of stunned silence was broken by twin shouts of _"Kiba!"_ and a loud whine.

 _So much for being unnoticed..._

* * *

 **That seems like a good enough spot to end the chapter, n'est-ce pas?**

 **Good news! We've just about entered the friendship arc, so that means more characters! More fluff! ...And a bit of a break from plot since there's been so much of it. Tbh, I might make fluffy scenes and make them into either unofficial chapters, (ex. 15.2/15.5,) or just write them as one-shots. Comment which you'd prefer?**

 **(It's also incredibly depressing to realize only one arc took an entire 12 chapters. This is gonna be so long... *groans in agonized frustration*)**

 **Also, I found a yummy looking mushroom ramen recipe. Wanna try?**

damndelicious dot net 2019/01/18/mushroom-ramen


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